


Rose Erotica

by goodiecornbread



Series: Sex Shop Stories [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Best Friends Stevie Budd & David Rose, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, David Rose Deserves Nice Things, David Rose is a Good Person, Developing Relationship, Erotica, First Meetings, M/M, Masturbation, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, POV David Rose, POV Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer is Gay, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek), Sex Toys, Stevie Budd is a Troll, The Great British Bake Off References, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodiecornbread/pseuds/goodiecornbread
Summary: David Rose is the proprietor of Schitt's Creek's very own Rose Erotica, Elm County's only adult store.Patrick Brewer is newly out, and is a little ignorant to the wonders of sexThankfully there is a cute store owner who can help him learn a thing or two.
Relationships: Alexis Rose & David Rose, David Rose & Moira Rose, Marcy Brewer & David Rose, Marcy Brewer & Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Series: Sex Shop Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158971
Comments: 172
Kudos: 412





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to MMJ527 for helping me create this fantasy! 🤣
> 
> Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we love writing it!

So this story was inspired by [this tweet](https://i.imgur.com/jTHIye1.jpg).

Had to change the music, but the rest was too good to _not_ write about.

~~~~~

David unlocked the front door and flipped the sign to "Open." He moved to the front counter and pressed "Play" on his phone, the soft soundscapes filling the air. He paused in the peaceful quiet.

"Mornin', Davey!" Roland bellowed as he barged through the door, overhead bell ringing like Notre Dame. David sighed. It never failed that the mayor, or his wife, or the mayor _and_ his wife, would come in nearly every morning, minutes after opening. Why two people of a certain age needed _that_ much lube was beyond him.

"Hi, Roland," he muttered in reply. "No new flavors since you were here on Tuesday." 

"Oh, that's fine! Don't worry about me! Besides, I'm here to pick up a little birthday gift for the Misses." He sauntered over and leaned across the counter, causing David to lean away. "Or _not_ so little, if you know what I mean." He slapped the table and laughed out loud.

"So what is it I can help you with?"

"Do you stock those 'Clone-A-Willy' things?" He asked. "You know, where you make a replica of your--"

"Yes, yes." _Please God stop talking_. "Body casting kits are on the far wall over there by the DIY vibrator supplies."

After ringing up his purchases, upselling a new massage oil, and wrapping everything in an opaque black bag, he sent Roland on his way. It's not that David minded running the only adult store in Elm County-- the exact opposite, actually. He loved providing an open, accepting, sex-positive experience for people to visit and learn about themselves, their partners, their preferences. He had a colorful past with a _lot_ of different partners and situations, and felt that all of his knowledge and expertise was going to a good cause. And obviously it was a much needed niche market, as he'd exceeded his projected profits every quarter since he opened last year. The only downside, if there even was one, was getting an intimate look into the sex lives of the residents of his small town.

The morning moved by quickly with a slow, steady stream of customers. A shipment of organic unisex pheromone cologne came in around lunch time, and after closing the store for an hour break, David started to unload the box onto one of the front tables. A couple came in, late twenties, he'd guess, and casually wandered around the store. The shorter of the two men, dark skin under a tight polo and short-cropped black hair, looked curious and determined, whereas the taller one, pale with strong shoulders covered by a button-up tucked into basic jeans, looked uncomfortable and completely out of his element. Interesting. He was about to offer his assistance when the shorter man spoke.

"Oh, over here, Bunny Bear!" He pointed towards the table of artfully displayed anal toys. He grabbed his partner's hand and dragged him over. David turned back to his work, keeping an ear out for any sounds that they may need help. Enya started to vocalize over the sound system.

"I don't think I'd like that," came a deeper voice.

"Of course you will!" Exclaimed the first man. "Everyone loves it."

"Well I don't know if I really want to try it right now."

"Are you serious, Bunny Bear?"

"If you want to buy it for yourself, go for it," the second man told him sternly. "But _I_ don't want it."

"I can't believe you're acting like this!" 

"Acting like what? All I said is that I don't want to use _that._ "

"You're acting like a prude! You come to me, a sheltered little baby gay, and I'm trying to _help_ you learn about stuff!"

"Then you should let _me_ learn, Ken. Instead of insisting I shove everything I see up my ass!" 

David snorted. _Shit._ He glanced over to see both men looking at him. The taller, handsome man looked mortified, while shorter man, _Ken_ , was glaring at him through his thick-framed glasses. 

"You know what?" Ken shouted, breaking the tension. "I'm done. You just stay a scared little virgin. I'm going to find someone who _wants_ to be with me."

"Ken--" the man started, but Ken held up his hand and stormed out of the store, letting the door slam behind him.

There was a long, awkward pause. David looked over and saw the man wipe his eye and turn to face away from him. He walked over, feeling drawn to protect someone who was clearly being mistreated.

"Um, so I couldn't help but overhear some things," he said quietly, "but let me just say: _fuck_ that guy."

The man smiled and looked down at his shoes. "Didn't you hear? I didn't. That's the problem."

"No, that's _his_ problem," David snapped. "No one is entitled to anyone else’s body. Ever." He kept his eyes on the man until he looked up, so he would see that he was serious. 

"Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess he isn't a very good boyfriend. Well, wasn't. I guess that's over."

"Good riddance. I've had more than my fair share of shitty partners, so I pretty much know them when I see them."

"Well, I should get going," he mumbled. "Uh, thanks. For being nice."

"Not often that I get called nice," David scoffed. "But wait, I can't in good conscience let you just walk out of here empty handed after a public breakup." The guy gave him an awkward look. "I'll give you the Lover's Quarrel discount."

"I wouldn't even know what…" he gestured to the whole of the store.

"Okay, we'll figure it out. But first, hi. I'm David Rose." He stuck out his hand.

"Hi, David," he reached out and grabbed on, his hand strong. "I'm Patrick Brewer."


	2. Chapter 2

"But first, hi. I'm David Rose." He stuck out his hand.

"Hi, David," he reached out and grabbed on, his hand strong. "I'm Patrick Brewer."

"Nice to meet you, Patrick Brewer. So, tell me about yourself."

"Um, what do you want to know?"

 _Everything._ "Well, besides _that_ asshole," he nodded towards the door, meaning Ken. "What brings you in to Rose Erotica?"

Patrick blushed. It was beautiful. "Uh, well Ken thought it might be good to find some stuff to try? I only just realized I'm, uh, I'm gay. Just recently. Which is embarrassing enough--"

"No," David cut him off. "There is no timeline for your sexual awakening. Every journey is different."

Patrick sighed, visually grateful for someone to cut him a break. He's probably been harder on himself than anyone else. "Right, yeah. Um, but I don't really have any experience with anyone other than women? Which was fine, _good_ , even. But… so anyway, I met Ken a few weeks ago, we went on some dates, and I told him that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. He suggested a few things, some of which we tried, but some things sounded… daunting."

"Let me stop you there," David said, placing a comforting hand on Patrick's arm. He could feel the muscles tense under his touch. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but I'd like to help you find something you'll like."

"You'd do that for me?"

Looking into his molten caramel eyes, David felt like he'd do anything for him. "Absolutely. That's what I'm here for!" Patrick nodded and looked back down at the table. "Do you have any experience with anal play?" He asked softly. Patrick's eyes jumped, like he was asked if he'd ever killed a man. 

"I, um… a little? Like, only by myself. It was… weird. Not bad, just… I didn't feel like I could get a good angle to feel anything life-shattering." 

David pursed his lips and nodded. _Been there,_ he thought. "So. Anal play can be _very_ fun and rewarding. But, and this is a big but-- it's not for everyone. There are gay men who _never_ enjoy anal. It has no bearing on your sexuality." He paused to give Patrick a moment to take it in. "Thst being said, there are _many_ toys and products available for solo play."

"Like what?" 

"Well, we have plugs," he motioned to the table in front of them. "There are beginners kits, but I recommend just starting with a narrow one. We also have vibrating prostate stimulators, which are quite narrow past the bulb." He pauses to think. "That's where I would start."

"Oh, wow. Okay." Patrick picked up a small display plug, no bigger around than his thumb. "I think maybe…" 

"Good choice," David interjected. He knew how awkward it could be, shopping for the first time for a toy, and wanted Patrick to feel as comfortable as possible. He leaned down below the table and retrieved a black, slender box from the shelf below. "Meet me at the counter," he instructed, before walking across the store to a row of small bottles. He returned to the counter and set everything in front of the register. "Water-based lubricant," he explained, holding up one bottle, "perfect for use on silicone toys. _Never_ use silicone lube on silicone toys. And cleanser," he held up the second bottle. "Clean your toys before and after _every_ use." He popped them both into the bag, followed by the box. "I'm also giving you some literature and information." He shuffled under the counter and withdrew a few pamphlets and business cards. He thought about explaining them, but Patrick seemed like he'd had enough emotional trauma for one day, so he just held up the two cards. "This bookstore has some great adult resources, and there's an LGBTQ+ group that meets a few times a month in Elm Dale." He slid them in the bag. He typed on the POS and pulled up a total. "$12.30."

"Wait, no," Patrick gaped. "That can't be right."

David shrugged. "$15.99 for the plug, with the 30% discount. The others are on the house. Consider it a First Toy multipack." He smiled. 

"Thank you, David." Patrick handed over a couple of bills. The bell over the door chimed and he visibly froze. David gave him an empathetic smile. 

"Welcome to the community," he said, handing over the black bag. "If you have any questions, or just want to talk or whatever, feel free to stop back in. Any time."

Patrick's face relaxed a little, turning pink.

"I think I will," he said sheepishly, taking his purchase and practically sprinting from the store. 

"First time shopper?" Stevie asked, strolling to the counter.

"Yeah," David sighed, "he was so nervous about being in here."

"Aw, and you just wanted to take him under your wing?" She asked with a devilish grin. "Or take him under the counter?"

David sneered at his best friend, throwing a package of phallic-shaped candy at her. "Eat a bag of dicks."

Stevie laughed and tore open the bag. "Don't mind if I do!"


	3. Chapter 3

Alexis sat perched on the counter, filing her nails. Her presence, no matter how frustrating, has been a constant in Rose Erotica since the beginning. After the General Store closed, David and Stevie got into a heated (and weed-fueled) discussion about the merits of having decent lube available, instead of the petroleum-based grease that could be found at Brebner's.

"Then why don't you stop _bitching_ and actually _do_ something about it?!" Alexis eventually snapped, which was the perfect seed for what eventually grew into this store. Organic lubricants, locally-sourced lotions and oils, hand-blown glass plugs and dildos, erotic scenes painted by a local artist… it was the perfect blend of art and practicality. The sand-and-stone color scheme and well-lit interior made it feel more welcoming than your seedy, run-of-the-mill porn store with neon XXX signs and greasy patrons. No, David would _never_ let Rose Erotica be anything less than a warm, accepting environment. 

He was dedicated to providing unashamed education and biased-free literature. The pamphlets he kept behind the counter, like the ones he gave to Patrick, had answers to say question you might ask, with titles like "Introduction to Sex Toys," "Consent Above All: How to Listen and How to Say No," and "Is My Body Normal?" There was an array of business cards as well, with helplines, and support and advocacy groups, artists you could hire for commission, as well as other businesses that may have products or books not sold in store. David had even arranged to have monthly groups and workshops in the upstairs area, where Twyla taught couples yoga and Kim, a woman from Elm Grove, did body-painting classes.

David was quite apprehensive at first, after he began to seriously consider this endeavor. Stevie was in full support, but she was a sex fiend, and he couldn't trust her to be completely unbiased. It wasn't until he went to City Hall to get a lease application and got talking to Ronnie that he realized what a paragon it could really be. 

"Listen, if anyone around here knows sex, it's you," she told him frankly. "We both know how daunting it can be when you have no idea what to do or what you want. Or how dangerous it can be to go exploring without any knowledge or awareness. People are gonna have sex, and they're gonna explore. So do we want the people of Schitt's Creek to be matching with idiots on Bumpkin and getting knocked up, or worse? Or do you want to give them a place to learn, with support and guidance?"

That sealed the deal for him, and Rose Erotica came into fruition. And the community rallied. His soft launch was packed, everyone excited to see past the artfully curtained windows that provided privacy and anonymity. And business never really slowed, especially once word got out that you could get decent sex products without taking a day trip to Toronto. Schitt's Creek had once been the Mecca of pranksters looking to deface their already tasteless town sign, but now there was something here to be proud of.

He'd even been invited by Jocelyn to speak to her class about safe sex practices during their reproductive health week. David really didn't feel like he was qualified to give any sort of advice to high schoolers, but was pleasantly surprised by how receptive they were to him. He was even stopped on his way out by no fewer than five groups of inquisitive teens, so he decided to start keeping information and free condoms readily available for any curious young person in need of judgement-free support. Basically, he was providing the environment we wish he had when he was young, eager and naive. 

The bell rang as someone entered the store.

"David," Alexis called, not looking up from her hands. " _David_! Customer!" When there was no response from the back, she sighed and looked up at the man who had walked in. "Hi!" She greeted with a cheery smile. "Welcome to Rose Erotica!"

"Hi. Um, is David here?" He looked around, seeming a little out unsure of himself.

Alexis waved her hand flippantly. "He's around here somewhere. But _I_ can help you!" She pointed to the sideways A around her neck. "I'm _Alexis_ , David's sister and life coach."

"Nice to meet you, Alexis. I'm Patrick." He stuck out his hand to shake hers. "I was in here the other day, and David had some, uh, products suggestions."

"Oh!" She flounced off of the counter, still gripping his hand. "I have _so_ many suggestions!" She pulled him to the back of the store where an assortment of foreplay items were on display. "So here we have a lot of thing for the perfect tease." Her face scrunched up and her eyebrows rose when she said it. 

"Oh, um..." 

"Oh!" She shouted, "Here is some tingling Nip and Lip balm that is one of my all-time favorites." She handed him a small tin, stepping closer and lowering her voice. "It's really _tantalizing_." She turned back, picking up a small silicone bulb. "Here is a little thingy that puts suction on… whatever. Like your nipples." She shrugged, setting it back down. "Oh! These are _so_ fun!" She practically hopped over to pick up what looked like a feather duster. "This tickler is sooo soft!" She lifted it to Patrick's face and teased him with it. 

Patrick instantly stepped back putting his hand in front of his face. He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a loud sneeze.

"Oops," Alexis giggled.

"What the hell--" David came storming out of the back room, but stopped short. "Oh. Hi, Patrick."

"Hi, David," he replied, hand still over his face. He breathed in deeply through his nose and dropped his hands to his side.

"Here!" Alexis rushed to the cash register and snatched a keychain hand sanitizer, handing it to Patrick.

"Hope you know you're paying for that," David snapped at her. " _And_ the flavored lube I know you were tasting."

"Ugh, David, I was _sampling_!"

"They're not samples, Alexis! Now get out of here before you assault any more of my customers with my products." 

She gave him a dirty look. "You're such a _dick,_ David!" She pouted and strutted out of the store in her impossibly high heels.

"Sorry about that," David said, turning to Patrick.

"No worries, she was just trying to help." He held up the hand sanitizer that he had just used. "I'll pay for this."

"No, it's fine, I'll just write it off."

Patrick gave him a quizzical look. "Uh, well I needed one for my car anyway, so just add it to my order."

"Okay," David smiled. "So! What brings you in?" It had been less than a week since Patrick had come in with Ken, but he almost seemed like a completely different person. More confident, not as uncomfortable. But still the same button-up. Green, this time, which brought out the brown of his eyes in a way that made David want to sip whiskey, curled up in front of a fire. He shook his head a little to refocus.

"Well, I wanted to, uh, thank you, I guess? For how helpful and understanding you were last week." Patrick rubbed his hands together. "And hopefully get some more… suggestions?"

David flipped right into his sales mode. "Absolutely. Did you not like the plug?"

"Oh, no! I liked the plug," he gave an awkward chuckle. "I was just thinking about trying something new."

"Of course. Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"Uh… no?"

David gave him an assured smile. "No problem. Let's talk. You said you enjoyed the plug, are you thinking of going bigger?"

"Eh, not just yet." His eyes darted up. "Should I be going bigger?"

David placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The only thing you should be doing is what you're comfortable with." Patrick smiled at him. "So, if you're wanting to stay in that area, might I suggest a prostate massager? It will give you a chance to experience some different sensations, and see what you like." He walked them to the table near where they had their first conversation last week. David picked up a slender device with a tilted bulb on the end. "This is _slightly_ bigger around at the end than your plug, but the shaft is about the same girth. The handle is long enough that you can use it from any angle to really hit the spot, and it has five vibration settings." He handed the toy to Patrick, who felt the weight of it in his hand, feeling up the stem carefully. Watching his fingers delicately explore the massager was enticing, and David had to look away and adjust an already-straight box on another shelf.

"It vibrates?" Patrick asked, still eyeing it curiously. 

"Yes, there is a button down here," David pointed and watched as Patrick pressed it, the toy jumping to life in his hands. 

"Wow, okay," Patrick muttered, pressing the button in quick succession to try to turn it off. "I think… yeah, I'll try this." He set it back on the table while David retrieved an unopened one from the shelf below. They walked up to the counter together, and Patrick sat the keychain down next to the box.

"Anything else today?" David asked absently, tapping on the screen of the till.

"Oh, yeah, uh… lube?" Patrick's ears started to pink. "Mine tipped over and, uh, spilled. So, uh, I need some more."

David gave him a knowing smile. "Of course, happens all the time." He quickly moved to a side table and back, carrying a much larger bottle. "Might I suggest this?" He said, hoping his fake sincerity sounded earnest. "It's much sturdier. Less likely to _tip over._ Plus, if a little spills, you still have so much left." 

Patrick cocked an eyebrow, but didn't argue. "Sure, David." 

"$31.68," David told him.

"What, no discounts today?" Patrick teased.

"Not your first toy, and you didn't get dumped," he responded matter-of-factly, eliciting an excited grin.

"Have a good day, David."

"Have a good day, Patrick. Enjoy."

"Oh, I think I will."

Not for the first time, David had to start going over inventory lists in his head to stop himself from imagining Patrick trying out his new toys.

How did he go through so much lube?!


	4. Chapter 4

"So, David," Alexis grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. "Who was that little _button_ in here yesterday?"

"Who, Patrick?" He was trying to act nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't notice the heat in his cheeks. 

"Yeah, who _else_? He was a little cutie!"

"You _do_ know your boyfriend is right there, right?" He gestured to where Ted was wandering in the back corner, checking out the paintings hanging on the wall.

"Ted, Babe?" She called out. "I told you about that cutie who was in here yesterday."

"Yeah, Babe," he replied with a million-dollar smile. "You told me at breakfast. Said he was a hot- _tea,_ or _donut_ you remember?" He pointed up at one of the paintings, elegant breasts dramatically highlighted in blue and red. "Babe, this kind of looks like you!" He grinned, too chipper for this conversation.

"That is disgusting," David grimaced. "I would _never_ intentionally display my sister's nude body on my walls."

"I'm pretty sure that portrait the Sultan had commissioned of me is still hanging in his palace in Morocco," Alexis added thoughtfully. "Anyway, tell me about Patrick!"

"There's nothing to tell! He's newly out, and just came in to find some stuff to… aid his journey of self discovery." He waved her off, but she looked up at him with admiration.

"Aw, David! You're like a little queer superhero!"

"A super- _queer_ -o, if you will," Ted laughed. David just glared at him.

"I will not." He looked over at his sister. "Can I _help_ you with something?!"

"Yeah, do you have any more of that chocolate body paint?" 

"No, Tae is bringing their next shipment on Thursday when they come for the 'Make Your Own Edible Body Paint' class." David tried not to focus on the reason behind her question and more on the question itself. You'd think people would figure out how to smear food on their partner's skin, but the little seminars they teach every few months are quite popular. 

"Omigod _yay_! Text me the deets!" She spun around to Ted. "You ready, Babe?"

"You know it, Babe!" He replied, and waved to David. "Catch ya later, Bud!" Alexis blew him a kiss and they bounced out the door.

8===D

Thursday evening, an hour before close, a tall, slender entity breezed through the front door.

"David, Darling!" They called, coming up to embrace him with long ebony arms.

"Tae, pleasure as always," he replied, giving them a kiss on the cheek.

"Will you help me with your stock while I get my stuff?" They asked, in a way that made David feel like it was his idea. Tae was like an ethereal being, drawing everyone to them with a gravitational pull that could rival the sun. 

The two of them left through the back door to Tae's car, David retrieving a large cardboard box from the trunk while Tae loaded themselves up with hemp tote bags filled with supplies, which they carried upstairs to the empty room above the store. David restocked the shelf with the small jars while listening to the thump of furniture that Tae was setting up for the class. A steady stream of customers started coming in, meandering around the store until it was time to go upstairs.

"David! Assist your patrons with their procurements this instant!" Came a boisterous voice from near the cash register. He turned to glare at his mother.

" _What_ are you doing here?" He demanded, looking over the items she'd brought to the counter. 

"Why, I have come to support your humble repository, of course! And to attend the colloquium provided by our sweet pedagogue Tae!"

"Fine, but we will _never_ speak of what you purchase here," he grumbled, blindly scanning and bagging items. He didn't need any more reasons for therapy. When he read her total she gaped at him.

" _Day-vid_! What of the kith and kin deduction?"

"That was for the opening, last _year_!" He was getting tired of her constantly trying to pay less at his store, especially now. Between her modest Town Council income and Dad's work with the Rosebud Motel, there was no reason she couldn't afford to pay full-price for her _(shudder)_ warming lubricant.

Luckily Alexis and Ted came in at that moment, so he could drop his mother on them before dashing in the back for a brief moment. 

Soon he heard Tae come down the stairs and welcome everyone to join them upstairs for the class. The storefront emptied, with a few stragglers arriving last minute, and at six o'clock on the dot, David locked the door. He took his time sweeping and facing the store, counting down the till and putting the deposit in the safe. 

He made his way up the stairs to listen in on the group, sitting in his usual seat in the back. Tae was walking from table to table, helping with consistency, color choices and flavors.

"I _love_ using candy flavors," they told a couple David didn't know, but recognized from previous classes. "Bubblegum pink, or cotton candy blue!"

Tae always had an assortment of food dyes and flavor extracts available, but never brought out their coveted chocolate recipe. They kept that one close to the chest, knowing it was their best-seller.

David was never one for this particular bedroom activity. Sure, the occasional whipped cream or chocolate sauce could make for a good time, but it was usually too much of a sticky mess to be worth it. 

Without his permission, David's brain suddenly supplied the thought of Patrick. Patrick, in his boring-but-somehow-not-boring button-up and jeans, standing at the foot of his bed, holding a can of Reddi-Whip.

 _Fuck_.

He jumped up from his chair and headed to the stairs, taking them two at a time. _Get it together,_ he told himself, rushing into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Getting a semi in his store thinking about a customer was absolutely unacceptable, and borderline pornographic (and the irony was not lost on him). He was _not_ going to get all hot and bothered about a brokenhearted and newly self-exploring individual. No matter how beautiful their eyes were or how their muscles looked beneath their shirt. Customers were customers, and there was a professional line that he was trying very hard not to cross.

8===D

"I need a new vibrator," Stevie sighed, leaning over the counter. 

"You _just_ bought one!" 

"Uh, no, I just bought a vibrating _dildo_. There's a difference."

"Whatever, you know where they are," David replied, waving his hand in the general direction. She didn't move from her spot. "What are you waiting for?"

"Well I _was_ hoping maybe you'd get me a Hitachi Wand for my birthday," she said, giving him a creepily sincere smile.

"Bold of you to assume I would buy you _anything,"_ he told her. She just flipped him off, pushed from the counter and headed to the display behind her.

The bell chimed over the door and David looked up expectantly. He was embarrassed to admit that he secretly hoped every day that Patrick would come back in. It had been over a week since his last visit, and David was starting to feel like a teenager waiting for their crush. It was absolutely ridiculous, and inappropriate. But if anyone were to ask, of course, he was simply interested in building his rapport with the community.

"Heya, David!" Bob cheered as he jogged in. "Just picking up some stuff for Gwen!" 

When Bob first started coming in semi-regularly, he always asked David's advice. "Do you think Gwen would like this?" "Is that something Gwen would want?" _Who the fuck is Gwen?_ He wanted to ask. But after a few weeks of his patronage, Bob's mysterious wife appeared in the store, alone, to make her own purchases. Bob always picked up some fancy lube or massage oil, or a little foreplay toy. Gwen's first individual purchase was a bondage kit for the ages, with leather cuffs and collar, and a rubber bodysuit. After that, their very _separate_ sex lives became quite apparent, and David sort-of hoped Bob would ask his advice again. That way he could guide him out of the shallow end and into Gwen's league. 

Bob jogged back to the counter with a bottle of shimmery massage oil that his wife would hate. David rang him up, trying hard to keep his eye contact short and professional. The bell chimed again as he left, David's back to the door.

"Hey, David."

He about leapt out of his skin. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with Patrick, giving him a sweet, gravity-defying upside-down smile. 

"Patrick! Hi!" Why was his voice so shrill? He cleared his throat, feeling Stevie's eyes on him. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Really good." Patrick smiled again, and David never wanted him to stop smiling. _Get it together, Rose. He's a customer._

David put on his salesman facade. "What brings you in today?"

"Looking for a nice Hitachi Wand?" Stevie asked as she flounced up to them.

"I hear those are great for back massages," Patrick said with a casual shrug. Stevie's eyes went wide. "That's what my ex-fiancé said she used hers for." He glanced at David, who felt suddenly embarrassed for him. "Guess I wasn't very good at satisfying her," he continued, deadpan. "Can't imagine why." Stevie's horrified face broke into a grin.

"You fucking troll," she laughed, and Patrick's sober face opened into a mischievous smirk. "I like you." She clapped him on the shoulder and passed them, plunking down on a stool behind the register.

David didn't try to hide his smile. "Okay then, what can I _actually_ do for you?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Patrick said with a flirtatious tone. _Was_ it flirtatious? No, just friendly. 

"Anything in particular you had in mind?" He was trying to come across cordial and collected, not at all how he felt. 

"Actually, yes." He stepped closer and lowered the tone of his voice. "I'm really enjoying these new, uh, _experiences._ But I'm wondering if there is anything more I can do for the… front?" His hands make a V shape aimed at his groin. David's eyes follow it down unintentionaly, then snap back up. "Sorry," Patrick said, moving his hands to his pockets. "That was a weird thing to do." He didn't look sorry, though, just entertained. He was even more confident today than he was even last week, which David found endearing. He wondered how much more self-assured he'd become as he really grew into his own. 

"I think I know _just_ the thing," he said, leading them to a hanging display by the side of the counter. "Have you ever tried a cock ring?"

"Can't say that I have." Where has this poor boy been?

"That's fine. They're really a simple concept." He explained how to place one, how to ensure the right fit, how long before you should remove it. "And it has multiple benefits, both for with a partner and solo. The decreased blood loss causes a higher sensitivity, and can even delay and therefore increase pleasure from orgasm." Thankfully this is a speech he'd given a hundred times before, and could recite without much thought. He did _not_ need to be imagining Patrick's erection or orgasm. Absolutely not. 

"That sounds great, David." There was that sincere smile again, taking his breath away. "Thank you for all of your help and expertise."

"My pleasure," he said, just barely over a whisper.

"Actually, I think it's _my_ pleasure," Patrick said with a wink. A wink?! No, couldn't have been. 

"I can cash you out," Stevie told him, thankfully taking attention from David, who seemed rooted in place. "Need any more lube?" She asked innocently. David shot her a dirty look. "What? Just trying to upsell!" 

"No, thank you," Patrick replied with a laugh. "David took really good care of me last time." 

"I'll bet he did," Stevie smirked.

He took his bag from the counter and headed to the door. "I'll see you later," he told them.

" _C_ _ome_ again!" Stevie called. David whipped around to her, glaring.

"You're disgusting."


	5. Chapter 5

“Gimme that,” Stevie demanded, leaning over David to snatch away the blunt he was holding.

“Jesus, calm yourself!” He took one more hit and passed it over. 

“It’s mine, I can take it back whenever I want.” She flopped onto her back again, laying side-by-side on her bed. They could almost make out the sparkles on her popcorn ceiling through the haze of smoke. “So what do you think Patrick does with all that lube?” she asked casually.

“ _None_ of your business!” He replied, bewildered. 

“But it _is_ your business,” she grinned, taking a deep inhale.

“Maybe,” his head was too cloudy for a battle of the minds with her today. “But there _is_ such a thing as customer-proprietor confidentiality!”

“No there’s not,” she snorted.

“Okay, maybe not. But I don’t need to know what Patrick does with his lube.”

“But you _want_ to know.” Ugh, how was she so sharp after smoking half a joint?

“Maybe,” was all he could muster, focusing on a water stain above his head. She flipped and turned to him.

“I wonder what he thinks about when he’s using all that lube?”

“ _Stevie,_ ” he warned.

“I wonder _who_ he thinks about?”

“Stevie!”

“I’ll bet he imagines the tall, _sexy_ business owner who helped him pick out the _perfect_ butt-plug.”

“Stevie I swear to _god!_ ” He turned over to face her, her and her stupid grin. “Fuck you,” he muttered.

“I think that’s what _he_ wants to do,” she winked. He gave a painful groan and rolled away onto his stomach, face pressed into a pillow.

“ _Stop_ ,” he begged.

“Oh shit, don’t get a hard-on on my bed, Rose!”

“If I do it’s all your fault!” his voice was muffled but just as irritated.

“Ew. I take it all back.” He moved his head to peek one eye out at her.

“It’s true,” he whispered.

“I knew it!” she hissed, and cackled like a fucking witch. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“ _Nothing_! I’m not going to do _anything_! It would be inappropriate and _wildly_ unprofessional to _rub up_ on one of my customers!”

“Ew, I never said ‘rub up’ on him!” She gagged. “I meant, like, ask him out or something, you pervert.”

“Oh, _I’m_ the pervert now?”

“Well you _are_ talking about rubbing up on one of your customers…”

“Choke on an ice pick.”

8===D

David read over the notice again. 

_Fuck._

_Fuck fuck fucking fuck_!

David was fucked.

> Dear Mr. Rose,
> 
> This notice is to inform you that your business, Rose Erotica, LLC, has been operating under false licensure. It has come to the attention of the Ontario Ministry of Consumer Services that Rose Erotica, LLC, has been offering consumable goods to the public.

He set the letter back down. He didn't sell food items. He sold _edible_ items, but that wasn't the same. Was it? Either way, he suddenly had to apply for a commercial food permit and resubmit his license to the province.

He sighed. He _really_ hated going through Ray for any kind of business services. He was a nice enough guy, maybe _too_ nice, and was helpful when first applying for the store. But since he'd opened, Ray has been an… interesting customer. Could he be called a customer if he never made any purchases?

Every few weeks he came in. All too chipper and genuinely excited to talk to David. He would ask about what was new, any best-sellers, and then would browse. And browse. And browse. 

Sure, plenty of people took their time here, often not knowing exactly what they may want. But Ray was different. He looked at _everything._ He would pause from time to time, picking up something and making a friendly comment about it. "David, this strap-on looks _delightful!_ " "Oh, David, you should make a display of these penis pumps!" 

He wasn't sure if Ray ever intended to buy, or if he just liked looking at things, or if he just wanted to show community support. Hell, David didn't even know what Ray's _preferences_ were so he could make a suggestion. He would probably get some weird non-answer answer and somehow be roped into ordering custom mouse pads with his logo on them or something.

So going back to Ray wasn't really an option. At least it was preferable to asking his dad for help. Johnny Rose was alway offering assistance, but his experience with a retail environment ended in the days of fax machines and shoulder pads.

Fuck. 

He picked up the letter again, hoping the words had changed in the last five seconds. They hadn't. 

The bell chimed over the door, but he didn't look up.

"Welcome to Rose Erotica," he said flatly. 

"Hey, David." He glanced up to see Patrick standing in front of him.

"Oh, hey." His stress decreased by about 0.2% by his presence, which was a welcome surprise. He still couldn't muster his usual customer service voice, though. "Can I help you with something?" God, he sounded exhausted.

"Uh, I think I might look around for a bit?" Patrick offered warily, his brow furrowed.

"Okay," David replied, distracted again by the paper in his hands. Patrick stepped away from the counter, but not far. 

"Is everything okay, David?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at the sound of his name. "Oh, uh, yeah." He set the notice back down and plastered on a tired smile."Just store stuff." Patrick could obviously see right through it.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"Um, no, thanks. Unless you happen to know anything about business licensing and food permits in retail environments."

Patrick smiled and ducked his head shyly. "Actually, I do," he said as he stepped back up to the counter.

"Okay, did Stevie put you up to this?"

"No?" He looked genuinely confused and… hurt? No, that couldn't be right. "I have my MBA from the University of Windsor, and I do freelance business consulting out of Elmdale."

David's mouth dropped. He could be telling him that Mariah Carey was his cousin and he wouldn't feel this serendipitously lucky. "You're shitting me."

"Nope! I'd show you my degree but damned if I didn't leave it at home today." David grinned at him. "So, what is the problem?"

"Apparently the government thinks I'm trying to sell food here without a permit? But I'm not." He pointed to the table to his right. "I mean, I sell edible things, like lube and body paint and candy lingerie? But that's not… I don't need a permit for that, right?"

Patrick thought for a moment. "No, I think you're right, but I'd have to check to be sure. Can I see your license application and agreement?"

"What, like now?"

He shrugged. "If you have time. I have nowhere to be."

"Yes, please!" David grabbed his arm and all but dragged him into the back office. He pulled open the filing cabinet drawer and withdrew a folder. He handed it to Patrick and motioned for him to sit at his desk. The bell chimed as he handed over the folder. "I gotta go out there, just grab me if you need anything?" 

Thirty minutes later, he was finally ringing up Gwen's purchase of a new ball gag. How does one _break_ a ball gag? He didn't want to know, especially after discussing possible sturdier ones she may want to special order into the store. 

He stepped back past the curtain just as Patrick was standing from the desk.

"Well?"

Patrick smiled. "Looks like it might just be a miscommunication." David let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Ohthankgod," he sighed.

"I will have to look up some things, maybe call a colleague who works more with foodservice, but this should be easy to straighten out."

"My knight in shining denim," David breathed. "Are you a hugger? Because I think I need to hug you."

Patrick's smile got broader. "Yeah, I'm a hugger," he said quietly. He opened his arms tentatively. David couldn't stop himself if he wanted to.

Falling into Patrick's arms felt so good. So _right_. His solid chest pressed against his own, strong arms encircling his waist. Hot breath against his ear. David gave him a slight squeeze around the shoulders, and felt hands moving on the small of his back.

He leaned away, slowly and carefully, just enough to look at Patrick. Static crackled between them as deep chestnut eyes bore into him. Suddenly he felt lips pressing against his own, soft but firm. He pressed back, using his arms to hold Patrick tighter. The hands on his back held steady keeping their bodies close. He gently moved his left hand to cradle Patrick's jaw, eliciting a sigh. 

David froze, pulling back slowly with wide eyes. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "That was _so_ not appropriate."

"David," Patrick practically _whined,_ and pulled them back together. Tighter and harder. _Oh, God._

He felt Patrick's tongue run along his lower lip, and opened his mouth to meet him with his own. His tongue was as strong and confident as he was, exploring deep, tasting like spearmint and hunger. He reached his hand up the back of Patrick's head and gave his hair a slight tug. The moan that Patrick made was salacious, and he hungrily pulled David's hips harder into his. 

"Does anyone work here?" 

_Shit_. He must not have heard the bell over the sound of all the blood in his body coursing to his cock. He pulled back again, this time needing a lot more willpower. "It's my sister," he whispered. Patrick nodded, looking like he was as lust-drunk as David felt. They untangled their arms from each other, gathering their wits, and Patrick picked up the folder.

"Mind if I take this with me?" He asked, his voice rough and hot.

"Take whatever you need," David replied, smiling. He turned to the front of the store, but not before seeing Patrick's eyes light up. "What do you want, devil woman?" He hissed as he stepped through the curtain. Alexis cocked an eyebrow at him, but her face grew into a bright, excited grin as Patrick stepped out behind him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said to David before awkwardly waving at Alexis and beelining to the door.

"Oh my _god_ , David!" She all but squealed when the door closed. "What did you _do_?!" 

" _Nothing_!"

"Oh you obviously did _something_! That poor button looked absolutely _ravished_!"

"Ew, I didn't _ravish_ him! I just may have… kissed him."

Her eyes lit up. " _David_!"

"Stop saying 'David'!"

"You _kissed_ him?! That little baby gay who came to you in his hour of need?"

"Fall off a bridge, please."

"And he _wanted_ that?"

What was the punishment for sororicide was in Ontario? "Yes! In fact, _he_ kissed _me_!" 

"I find that harder to believe." 

"Okay, begone, you hag." He started pushing her towards the door. 

"Wait! Mom wanted me to tell you we are going to the Schitt's for dinner, and you have to come."

"I'd rather soak in a volcano, thanks."

"Okay, fine," she pouted. "Guess I'll just have to catch them up on your life, who you're frenching, you know…"

"For the last time we were not _frenching_ , because we are not _twelve!_ " There was no way he was not going to go now, and protect himself from Alexis and her big mouth. 

"Jocelyn is making Frito Pie, whatever that is," she said with a hair flip at the door. "See you there!"

David could only tuck a smile away in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is being written by two people in the States with absolutely NO knowledge of business laws in Canada. So just pretend with us? Thanks! 🤣


	6. Chapter 6

When his alarm blared at 6:00am, Patrick contemplated hitting snooze. He knew he didn't have any meetings until ten this morning, so an extra hour of sleep wouldn't kill him. He could use it, having been up until well after midnight researching small business food permits. He'd spent over an hour on the phone with an old college classmate who was now in Vancouver, working with all kinds of small bakeries and food trucks on the west coast. It seemed pretty straightforward, but he would need to see vendor agreements and the packaging of any of the edible products. Plus he had to return the paperwork he had borrowed last night.

Which meant he needed to return to Rose Erotica today. 

He had an actual excuse to see David again so soon.

David.

Probably the only reason he _wasn't_ resetting his clock for a later time was the energy he felt surging through him as he replayed last night. That kiss.

From the first terrible, awkward moment Ken dragged him into the store, he felt more at-ease than he expected. He'd been to a Spencer's when he and his friends spent a weekend in Detroit a few years ago, but he was too embarrassed to do more than glance at the gag gifts his buddies teased each other with. Besides that, only a few dark, dirty adult "bookstores" were the extent of his experiences with sex stores. Until Rose Erotica. 

It looked like any other high-end boutique from the outside, black and cream facade with gold lettering. Even inside was calming, he didn't feel like a pervert, simply a customer shopping for specific goods. 

Ken almost ruined it, though. He'd been nice enough at first, seemingly understanding about Patrick's later-in-life epiphany. He encouraged him to make up for lost time, and they had fun-- trying some things that were new, some things that were new with a guy. But after the first few times of fooling around, by the time Patrick was really starting to feel like he was getting the hang of things and actually _enjoy_ himself, Ken was pushing on to the next thing. And it wasn't that Patrick wasn't interested in more, he just wasn't sure he was ready. 

It wasn't until they were under the bright, warm lights of the store, with Ken pressuring him to buy some big dildo or something equally absurd, that he realized his relationship wasn't anything like he wanted. What solidified it was when he put his foot down and was publicly humiliated by the person who was supposed to care for him. 

Then came in David and swept him off his feet. With his soft voice and kind eyes and his understanding and honesty and sincerity, he made Patrick feel seen and valid. He spoke candidly, with no embarrassment or shame. By the time he was walking out with his little black bag, he was smitten.

He threw off his blanket, unable to sit still for another second. He started a kettle, got changed into cargo shorts and a hoodie, before making a tea in his to-go cup and lacing up his hiking boots. By the time he made it back to his car from Rattlesnake Point, his jitters were mostly faded. Except for the small flutter he felt almost constantly now, in the pit of his stomach. He can't remember the last time he felt so enamored by anyone, even Ken. Maybe especially Ken. 

After leaving Rose Erotica that first day, he spent a significant amount of time staring at the plug David helped him pick out. He'd washed it, following the cleanser's instructions perfectly. He'd read the pamphlets that David had (thankfully) slipped into his bag. He'd researched a little online too. He'd done that before, looked online for advice, but it was always abstract, a future endeavor. And he'd used his fingers before, in the shower, but it never really felt like anything special. Nothing like it was apparently supposed to. But now, staring down the barrel of a specifically chosen plug, it seemed more daunting. But he thought of David (no, not like that), and his confidence and assurance, and decided that it was worth a try. What was the worst that could happen? David had told him that enjoying anal play was not for everyone.

But when he finally worked himself up to it, and had it fully inserted, he knew that it _was_ for him. Even though it was narrow, the fullness he felt was so good. And when he thought of David again, this time _in_ that way, his orgasm was stronger than it had been in… probably ever. He had no idea it could feel this good, and he knew he was only at the beginning of this journey.

After spending probably too much time with the plug, feeling like a teenager again, he felt ready to try something new. And he really needed more lube (at least it was an upgrade from the big bottle of Jergen's hand lotion from his youth). And, if he were being perfectly honest, he really wanted to see David again.

In the shower, washing off the sweat and grime of the hike, he thought about the second time he went into Rose Erotica. He was a little surprised to see someone else running the store, and secretly disappointed to not see David. But when Alexis introduced herself and said he was just in the back, he allowed her to drag him around and flirt with him. Thankfully David finally emerged, looking gruff and annoyed and _so_ handsome. The first time they met, he was taken with how David made him feel, being comforted by his calm and confidence. This time, though, he was struck by how absolutely gorgeous he was. Of course he was attracted to him from the moment he first saw him, but he was blinded by unease and embarrassment. But here he was, a vision in black and white, tall and dark and solid and so absolutely _masculine_. Oh he was a goner.

The prostate massager David had recommended was a revelation. Patrick had heard of the P-Spot before but had never experienced anything so… life shattering. He wondered what else David could teach him, by proxy or otherwise. 

He really needed to stop thinking about David when he masturbated. 

He forced himself to wait another week before going back. He didn't want to seem too desperate to see David, _or_ too desperate for more masturbatory toys. This time he met Stevie, one of David's friends, and liked that he could joke around with them, feeling more like a human than a horny middle-schooler. And Stevie teased him about lube, which wasn't as humiliating as he expected. In fact, the thought that David was talking about him was his friends was exhilarating.

This time, he walked into Rose Erotica knowing exactly what he wanted: a date. He was feeling more confident in their flirty rapport, and was ready to ask him out. What he didn’t expect was the hottest make-out of his life, albeit too short for his liking. He left practically floating, rushing home to start working on the licensing problems immediately. In all honesty, he was barely qualified to help-- sure, he had his MBA and his job _was_ consulting, but usually when a restaurant or food service needed help, he'd recommend someone else for the job. But he couldn't _not_ offer some help, after seeing the worry and stress in David's usually confident eyes. And the way he looked at him when Patrick said he'd look over things? He'd do anything to have David look at him like that again. 

And then the kiss.

If being around David made him feel like he was on fire, then kissing him was being at the center of the sun. Every nerve pulsed. It ended sooner than he would have liked (literally any amount of time would not be long enough), but the way David reacted when they parted gave him hope that he, too, might want to make it happen again. 

So now here he was, impatiently awaiting his 10 o'clock to show up, so he could get that over with and head to Schitt's Creek and see David and maybe take him to lunch and definitely ask him out and hopefully kiss him again.

By the time Mrs. Tremblay finished sorting her unpaid tax forms from the past three years, it was past 11. Patrick had to hurry to get there before noon, because he knew that David always closed for an hour for lunch.

He pulled up in front of Café Tropical with ten minutes to spare, and, armed with the folder of licensing paperwork, made his way across the street. He felt giddy and confident and alive as he pushed open the door, hearing the now-familiar chime. 

But when he stepped inside the store his heart dropped. David was standing in front of the register, leaning back against the counter, with a tall, strong, _handsome_ man standing over him. With his hand on David's cheek. _Kissing_ him.

"Oh, um…" 

They both looked up at him, David's eyes wide. 

"Patrick!"

"Who's this guy?" The man asked, with a (deliciously) deep voice. 

"I'm sorry," Patrick stuttered, and spun around, pushing out the door.

"Wait--" he heard David call, but his feet kept moving.

He was a block away by the time he realized he was still moving, and now a block away from his car. And still holding David's folder. Dammit. 

He turned back around, feeling defeated, and slowly made his way back. 

Of _course_ David was seeing someone. He was smart and successful and kind and gorgeous. He probably had every guy in Schitt's Creek lined up to be with him. Why did he think he was any different? Why would David want to be with someone so inexperienced and desperate?

"Yo, Brewer! Wait up!" He turned around to see Stevie coming up the road behind him. _Great._

"Hey, Stevie," he muttered when she caught up.

"The hell's wrong with you?" She asked, looking him up and down. "And why the hell are you walking _here_?" 

"I, uh…" he through about coming up with some excuse, but he could just tell that Stevie could smell the bullshit. "I was bringing back some paperwork I was helping David with."

"Then why are you half a block away from the store? And why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios?"

He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "I didn't realize David was seeing anyone?" 

She scoffed. "Uh, he's not? Why would you think that?"

"Because I just stopped in there and there was this… Greek God in there kissing him!"

She looked at him like he had three heads. "Greek god?"

"Yeah, you know, all buff and tan and tall and bearded and--" she stopped him with a smack on the arm.

"Oh my god, _Jake?_!" She laughed.

"Uh, what?"

"That was probably Jake."

"So he _is_ seeing someone?" 

"No, no, god," she panted, out of breath from laughing. Why was this so funny?! "Jake is… Jake is like the hot cheerleader in high school. Sleeps with every, dates no one, kind of dumb but _really_ pretty."

"Oh...kay?"

"Trust me, it means absolutely nothing." He didn't respond. He couldn't. She grabbed his arm, stopping them. "Patrick. Listen. Whatever you saw in there with Jake, that was nothing." He nodded, not meeting her eyes. She sighed. "C'mon." She dragged him along.

When they got close to the store, Patrick's stomach clenched. If Stevie wasn't locked on to his arm he probably would have gotten back into his car and been halfway home by now. But the door to the store opened and the guy, _Jake_ , stepped out. He glanced over at them. 

"Stevie," he said, in his sultry voice, stepping over to them. He leaned downed and kissed her on the mouth for a lingering moment. He leaned back. "Call me some time," he told her, then looked over at Patrick, eyeing him up and down. "You, too," he told him.

"So." Stevie said as Jake walked away. 

"Yeah, okay," he replied sheepishly. He suddenly felt like a fool. Stevie sighed.

"Hey, I get it. Jake is…" she stared off at nothing and bit her lower lip. She shook her head and looked back at him. "Anyway. Don't be an idiot." 

She pulled him into the store. When they walked in, David was pacing back and forth with his brows furrowed, eyes on the floor.

"Hey, dumbass," Stevie said, crossing her arms.

"Hey," David mumbled, and looked up at them. His eyes grew. "Patrick!" He rushed over, but short of him, arms out awkwardly like maybe he wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure. "Um, so about what you saw--"

"David, it's fine," Patrick told him, actually believed it. "Just a miscommunication."

"Exactly, that was absolutely nothing." His eyes were pleading, and it made Patrick's heart loft a little more, knowing how upset David was over this. "Jake is just--"

"A horn-dog with no boundaries," Stevie finished. "So which one of you boobs is gonna buy me lunch?"

8===D

"So wait, you only learned how to ride a bike last _year_?" Patrick laughed. He was sitting across the booth from David and Stevie at the cafe, swapping childhood stories. Both of them had wildly different upbringing than his own, but David's stories were almost unbelievable. 

"So did Alexis!" David defended.

"I have pictures," Stevie said quietly, giving him a smirk from across the table. 

"Oh, I'm gonna need to see those," Patrick replied.

"Absolutely not!" David snapped. 

"How have you gone through thirty--"

"Nope!" David interjected

"--years without learning to ride a bike?" Patrick finished.

"I have had absolutely no need to do so," he replied with a sniff. "Besides, if Kirsten Dunst made fun of _your_ training wheels, you'd be hesitant, too." Stevie reached over to pluck a fry from her friend's plate, but he slapped her hand away. "Get your own," he growled. Even when David was annoyed, he was still so charming-- the irritated facade couldn't hide the love behind his eyes. 

Patrick laughed again and slid his plate across the table to her. "Here, have mine," he told her.

"You know she's a racoon, right? Now that you've fed her she'll never leave you alone." 

"Uhm, I literally saw you eat out of the garbage _yesterday_ ," she accused around a mouthful of food.

"Because Dad had _no_ reason to throw away perfectly good cinnamon rolls, even if they were two days old."

"You two fight like siblings," Patrick pondered.

"Gross!" Stevie cried, throwing a fry at him.

"Ew, God! I would _never_ fuck my sister," David straightened his sweater, as if the thought of that could wrinkle cashmere.

 _They've slept together?_ he wondered. I didn't really matter, he had slept with a handful of girls, too. It didn't make him any less attracted to David.

Stevie must have seen the confusion, because she leaned forward and said, "I let him get it a few times when he first moved here. You know, pity fucks." 

" _Excuse_ you!" David gaped. "Those were consensually depressing pity fucks and you know it." He turned to Patrick, waving his hand. "Eons ago, please."

"So I guess that makes you more of an old married couple?" Patrick said.

"Ugh, even worse," Stevie muttered.

"She should be so lucky."

Patrick smiled at them. There was obvious love there behind the bickering, a deep-rooted bond. They looked out for each other. 

David glanced over and met his gaze, tucking a small smile into the side of his face. Patrick could feel his heart speed up. _If I could make him smile like that everyday, I’d never need anything else for the rest of my life,_ he thought. 

"Okay," Stevie interrupted, pushing David out of the booth. "As much I'd love to stay and watch you two stare at each other all afternoon, Roland can't be left at the Motel alone for too long." 

"Do you want your tab?" The waitress asked, rushing to their table.

"No thanks, Twyla, one of the boys will pay."

"I got it," David sighed, pulling out his wallet.

"No, David, I can--" but the waitress, _Twyla_ , was already heading to the register with his card. "You didn't have to pay for my lunch," he said. David just shrugged and smiled. "Then it's only fair that I buy you dinner. Tonight?"

David's smile grew. "I'd like that." Patrick couldn't hide his grin if he tried. 

They walked across the street together, and David unlocked the store, pausing in the doorway. 

"I'll pick you up at 7?" He asked. David bit down and smile and nodded. 

"I'll see you then," he whispered.

8===D

Patrick had two more meetings that afternoon, but he couldn't tell you what they were about. Only that when the second one ended, it was still two full hours before he was set to pick up David. 

He was picking him up at the Motel, David had texted him the address shortly after they parted. Stevie insisted they all exchange numbers, for emergency purposes, but the first thing she sent was the picture of perfectly styled David tying to maneuver a too-small, pink bike. 

After showering, shaving, and trying on three different shirts (he settled on a light blue button-up with a navy blazer), he still had over a half-hour before he had to leave.

He was a few shuffles into a game of mobile Solitaire when his phone rang. A picture of his parents last Christmas came up with " **Mom** " across the screen.

"Hey, Mom! What's up?"

"Hi, Sweetie. Just calling to see how you're doing?" They spoke in the phone no fewer than twice a week, but his mother seemed to think it was hardly enough.

"I'm good, everything's good."

"Still enjoying things out in Elmdale?"

He smirked. She hated when he left his hometown last fall, and always passive aggressively tried to convince him to come back.

"Yeah, Mom. Elmdale's good, work is good."

"Anything new?" He wondered how she always knew when he had something on his mind. Ever since he was a kid, he could never keep anything from Marcy Brewer.

"Oh, well I'm thinking about getting a new dresser. The one I found at that flea market is starting to really show his age." He paused and smiled. "Oh, and I have a date tonight." He had to hold the phone back from his ear so her squeal didn't cause any permanent damage.

"Oh, Patrick! That's wonderful! Tell me all about him." He smiled again. She had always been his biggest cheerleader, and he was a little worried that it might change when he came out to them. He should have known better, she was just excited that _he_ was finally excited to date. 

He told her a little about David, how they met (leaving out the specifics of his store), how kind he was when Ken stormed out. Once he got started, he couldn't stop, telling her about helping with his paperwork, and the misunderstanding with Jake, and lunch with Stevie. 

"Oh, Patrick, he sounds wonderful. I'm so happy for you," she sighed into the phone. He could feel her love from here. "I'm going to let you get going, Dear, but make sure to call me this weekend!"

"Will do, Mom. Tell Dad I said hi. I love you."

"We love you, too, Patrick. And we're so proud of you."

8===D

Patrick pulled up to the Motel parking lot at five minutes to seven. David was sitting in a metal chair next to the office door, but stood when Patrick got near. He was wearing skirted black pants, paired with a black sweater with a large white lighting bold moving down from his neck. He looked statuesque in the orange evening light. 

"Hi," he said softly after climbing into the car. He smelled crisp and sharp, and so _masculine_. 

"Hi," Patrick replied. "You look great."

"Thank you." God, that _smile._

"Were you hanging out with Stevie?" He had to change the subject and look away while he pulled onto the road, or he was liable to stay parked here all night just looking at David.

"Ah, no, actually…" he looked in his lap, then out the window, twisting the rings on his fingers. "My family lives there? At the motel."

"Oh, okay." He'd heard a little about the Rose's fall from grace, being the Canadian Kardashians, but never put too much thought into it otherwise. 

"Like, I could get my own place," he continued. "I probably should. But we spent our whole lives apart, literally across the world from each other, so now it's like… I don't known if I'm ready to go back to that."

"I get that," Patrick told him. "I'm really close with my parents. They're a few hours away but my mom calls me constantly." He shrugged, giving him an affirming smile. 

"So! Where are you taking me?" 

"Oh, this little Italian place in Elm Grove. Very popular. Maybe you've heard of it. Olive Garden?" He glanced over at David's stone face. 

"Aah," he said. "That sounds nice."

Patrick waited a few seconds. "David, I'm kidding. I'm not taking you to Olive Garden."

"Ohthankgod," he breathed, and Patrick couldn't help but laugh. "I would have gone, and eaten all the breadsticks, but that would have _seriously_ lowered your date score for tonight."

"You're keeping score?" He laughed.

"Yes, and that joke cost you half a point, so."

"Well I promise to be on my best behavior," he vowed.

"See that you do."

8===D

They were seated in the back booth of a small Italian restaurant. David ordered wine for both of them, after Patrick admitted that he really didn't know much beyond 'red' and 'white.' After ordering, they dug into the basket of rolls on the table.

"Enjoying the bread?" He teased as David reached for a second. He got a glare in return.

"Where did you find this place?" 

"I passed by here a while back. There's an Amish farm a few miles away that I helped set up an LLC. They make the best hand-churned butter."

"I _told_ Miriam that!" David exclaimed. "I'll have to have Stevie go get me some, I don't think they'll let me back in their house."

"You know the Yoders?" 

David blushed. "Our paths have crossed," he said quietly. "Or, rather, _my_ path crossed their's. But that's another story for another day." He looked up, shyly.

"I can't wait." Patrick wanted to hear every story David had. He was the most interesting person he'd ever met, and that included Alexis (Stevie and David had joked about him saving her from a South African cartel a month after her sweet sixteen?).

The waiter came by and dropped off two glasses of cabernet sauvignon. They raised their glasses and touched them together.

"To first dates," David toasted.

"To the first of many," Patrick added, eliciting an excited grin. They each took a sip. "Wow, this is good."

"I know," David said passively. "I have great taste." He set down his glass. "At least with wine. With people, I haven't had the greatest track record until recently."

"Oh? How recently?" Patrick tried to sound casual. He really didn't care how many partners David had had, or who they were. 

"Um, since coming here from New York? I mean, there was Stevie, which wasn't a great idea for our friendship. Then Jake, but he doesn't really count. Then an ex came to town, but that was a one-time thing I did to get back some dignity. But I really haven't _dated_ anyone in a few years. And I guess I've _never_ really dated anyone who was nice."

Patrick felt sad, not pity but actual sadness, that David had never been with anyone who was even remotely good enough for him. "Then I guess I have a lot to make up for," he said quietly. David bit down a smile. 

"Now you owe me a little peek onto _your_ sordid past," he shrugged. "It's only fair."

"Who said my past is _sordid?_ " He laughed.

"Well I had the pleasure of meeting Ken, and he seemed… disreputable."

"Okay, fair. Yeah," he rubbed his chin, thinking of where to start. "So I had this on-again-off-again girlfriend in high school and college. I never really knew what I wanted, but I proposed anyway. Then I had a panic attack and freaked out and realized… that I'm gay. So we ended things, somewhat amicably, I guess. Then I moved out here for a fresh start, despite my mother's insistence that there were plenty of gay bars at home." He laughed at the memory. Marcy was always enthusiastically supportive. "Then I tried out Bumpkin, went on a date with the first guy I matched with. Ken seemed nice, but he got pushy, wanting me to try things I wasn't ready for, getting mad when I said no." He glanced up at David, who was looking at him with big, empathetic eyes. There was no judgment there, just compassion. "I should have known it wouldn't work when I saw his shoes. They're so long, and--"

"Squared at the toes?" David interjected. "Yes, I knew something was wrong with him." They both laughed. 

"And now we're here," Patrick finished. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

"What?" David asked, smiling sweetly. Patrick cleared his throat and looked down to gather his courage. 

"I'm just really glad you let me take you out tonight."

"I'm really glad you asked," David replied softly. He reached his hand across the table and took David's, feeling his strong fingers interlacing his own. 

They held hands until their entrees arrived. Conversation flowed, easy and flirty. They finished dinner and shared a dessert. We'll, Patrick stole one bite of semifreddo that he didn't even really want, but after how David reacted to Stevie and the fries that afternoon, he couldn't help himself.

They held hands on then short walk to the car, then again while driving back to Schitt's Creek. 

"I can't believe you drove 30 minutes to pick me up, then another 45 to take me to dinner," David said. Patrick just shrugged and gave his hand a squeeze.

"I'd drive you to Halifax, if I found a decent restaurant out there," he teased.

By the time they pulled back in at the motel, and David told him to park in front of room 7, night had completey set and the car was enshrouded in shadow. 

"I'd invite you in for a nightcap," David said softly, "but I share a room with my adult sister."

"Another time then," Patrick replied with a smile. 

David leaned forward, just a bit, and Patrick met him halfway, pressing a kiss into his lips. David brought his hand around Patrick's neck to hold them together. They shifted their mouths, and Patrick brought his tongue up to run along David's bottom lip. He reciprocated, using his tongue to beckon Patrick's. 

Patrick forced himself to pull back, knowing he could easily stay here doing this all night. David's hand still cupped his face, his thumb moving softly against his cheek. 

"Can I see you again?" Patrick asked, just above a whisper.

"I'd like that," David said through a sideways smile. He leaned in for one more soft kiss. "Goodnight, Patrick."

"Goodnight, David."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length, we kept this one short, sweet and full of heat!

David typed out a message on his phone.

He deleted it. 

He typed another. 

Delete.

 _Fuck._ This was harder than he thought. 

"You're not texting Button _already_ , are you?" Alexis asked, watching him from where she sat at the table, textbooks splayed out in front of her. 

"No." It technically wasn't a lie, because he _hadn't_ actually managed to send any of the dozen or so texts he'd typed and promptly erased. 

"Good. Because you know you can't call or text for at _least_ 3 days after a date."

"And why not?" He'd heard of this 'rule,' but it had never really applied to him before. Because he'd never really had a real date before. 

"Be _cause_ , David!" She scoffed. "You don't want to come off too desperate, or like you _like_ him!"

"But I _do_ like him!"

"But he can't _know_ that yet."

"We went on a date _and_ we kissed," he told her. "I think he knows."

"Okay but he can't know how _much_ you like him yet." She threw down her highlighter and groaned. "Why do you think I never went on a second date with Casey Affleck?"

"Because he took you to a desert commune to watch the sunrise in complete silence with a hundred strangers?"

"Well, yeah, that," she sighed. "But also he called me, like, the _next day_ ! It was _way_ too soon. Very off-putting."

"I'm pretty sure it was a hemp robe they made you wear."

"Ugh, yes, there was only one size. _So_ unflattering." She shuddered at the thought. 

"Alex-as, have you seen my Amazonian boa handbag?" Moira asked, floating into the room. 

"Mom, tell David that he has to wait 72 hours after a date to call."

"Oh my, did our dear David partake in an amorous rendezvous?"

"Well, well, Son," Johnny said as he passed through the doorway, "That's wonderful news! And who is the lucky, ah, person?"

" _None_ of your business!" He hissed. 

"Well, if my opinion means anything--"

"It _doesn't_!"

"--I don't think there's anything wrong with being upfront about your romantic feelings."

"Oh, John," Moira said, looping her arm around her husband's elbow. "I don't recall bidding you salutations via telephone for a span of at _least_ four days post-courtship."

"Well, no, Moira dear," he chuckled. "But that was because you spent the entire weekend at my apartment."

"Ew!" Alexis screeched

"Okay, I'm done. We're done." David stood and gathered his bags for work. "You are _all_ very unhelpful people."

8===D

The store had been open for an hour and a half and David still didn't know what to text to Patrick, or even if he should. Frustrated, he dropped his phone on the counter and walked to the back to retrieve a box of scented candles that didn't need restocking.

He practically threw himself through the the curtain when he heard it vibrate. _If this is another meme from Stevie I swear to god…_

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> So I’ve heard it’s a bad idea to text too soon after a first date. But I realized we never made a plan to finish that licensing paperwork?
> 
> Hopefully this doesn't lower my chances for a second :)

He smiled to himself, relieved that he wasn't the only one wanting to talk to the other.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> No, your chances are still good. 
> 
> For now.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Phew!
> 
> I can come by this evening, about an hour before you close?

David's smile deepened, but only for a second. 

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> I would love that, but I'm hosting Twyla's couples yoga class tonight.
> 
> What about tomorrow?

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> I have a few things to do in the late afternoon, I couldn't get there before 6

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> That works for me. I'll order pizza.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Great. It's a date.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Is it, though?
> 
> Sounds more like a business meeting.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> You're buying me dinner? It's definitely a date.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Who said any of that pizza was for you?
> 
> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> :)
> 
> See you tomorrow, David. 

8===D

After locking the door, David quickly counted down the drawer and made a deposit to the safe. He would come back to clean and straighten the store later, but Twyla's yoga class was one event he made sure to always attend. He was already wearing a comfy knit sweater and harem pants, always making sure to wear something loose-fitting on these days.

At the top of the stairs, Twyla was starting some soft music on a portable CD player and couples were setting up their mats and beginning stretching. Jocelyn waved him over.

"Hey, David!" She said with a big smile. "Rollie couldn't make it again this week. Partners?"

This was part of the charade. The first couples class he had hosted, Roland had to deal with some sort of burst pipe emergency at City Hall. Jocelyn was really disappointed to have to miss the session, so David had offered to be her partner for the evening. He had actually enjoyed the one class he'd attended at Mutt's back when he first came to Schitt's Creek, and was secretly excited to be able to attend another. He felt so relaxed afterwards that he half-way jokingly told Jocelyn that he would pair with her again if Roland couldn't come. After that, they had an unspoken agreement that Roland, who actually hated any form of exercise, would be 'busy' those nights, and David would 'begrudgingly' offer to be with Jocelyn. It was mutually beneficial, but no one dared speak of it.

Twyla guided them through a series of warm-up moves, flowing from child's pose to downward dog to mountain. David usually let his mind wander, calmly thinking of new community outreach programs for the store, or plans for the motel (when Stevie finally gives him free reign to redesign the rooms). Today, however, no matter how clear he tried to make his mind, all thoughts returned to Patrick. 

Ever since the goodnight kiss in the car, David had been walking around with a warm burn in his chest. It was an unusual sensation, but it felt right at home. He'd thought the night had gone well, with their teasing and laughing, but also their serious, more personal conversation. He hadn't ever felt so comfortable with someone on the first date. He'd also never been so eager to see them again so soon. Or to be seen. Is that what it was like to be courted? Whatever it was, David was into it. For the first time ever he actually wished he _didn't_ have a store event to attend, so that he could see Patrick sooner. It was probably better to wait until tomorrow, though. He knew he could be a lot and didn't want Patrick to get sick of him just yet. 

But that _did_ mean he had to wait another 24 hours to kiss him again. At least, he hoped he'd get to kiss him again. Technically he was coming for a business meeting, but Patrick had kissed him the _last_ time he was helping with business stuff. And Patrick _had_ called it a date. So David was pretty confident that there'd be more kissing tomorrow. Hopefully. 

After everyone was sufficiently sweaty and relaxed and (not counting David and Jocelyn) feeling more intimate and connected to their partners, Twyla said goodbye to her patrons. David chatted with her while she gathered her things, and walked her out before moving to clean the rest of the store. 

He rushed home, hoping his haste would somehow make time move faster.

8===D

  
  


> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Headed your way, be there in 30.

David smiled.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> I'll be closed but will leave the door unlocked.

He set down his phone and went to offer some assistance to the couple looking at bondage rope. After discussing differences in lengths and material, he rang them up, even managing to upsell some massage oils for aftercare. 

Finally it was time. David flipped the sign to 'Closed,' remembering to leave the lock open, and turned off one set of overhead lights. He called and placed an order from the only pizza place that would deliver to town (not the best, but it works), and began an abbreviated version of his nightly routine. He was just putting the dry mop away when he heard the bell over the door.

"David?" Patrick called from the front. David emerged from the back, holding his excitement in with a sideways smile.

"Hi." They walked forward to meet in the middle of the room, and David leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, sorry I'm later than planned. I was stuck on hold with the Ministry of Finance for like an hour this afternoon, so everything got pushed back."

"Well, you're here now," David replied. Patrick's tight shoulders relaxed under his v-neck sweater. "So, can I take you in the back?" Patrick's eyebrows rose, and David felt his face flush. "That's something I just said. I mean, for the paperwork stuff? I figured we'd work in the office."

Patrick smiled as he stumbled over his words. Why was he so nervous? "That sounds good."

David lead him to the office where he had pulled the vendor agreements for all of the items considered edible, then excused himself to close out the till. Just as he was finishing up the deposit slip, there was a knock at the door indicating their dinner was here.

"So I didn't even think about plates," he said as he carried two pizza boxes into the office and placed them on the coffee table in front of a loveseat, "but I have a stack of napkins around here somewhere." He withdrew a handful from a small bureau next to a mini-fridge, where he grabbed two water bottles. "Sorry this isn't as nice as Italian," he murmured.

"This is great, David," Patrick said as he took a seat next to him on the small couch. Their knees bumped together, and neither one moved to separate them.

"So how do things look?" He asked before taking a bite. Patrick nodded and swallowed a mouthful.

"I'll have to look at the packaging of the individual products, but it seems to me like we'll just have to submit copies of everything with a letter clearing up the miscommunication."

"We?"

"Oh, um, you," Patrick corrected. "Sorry, I meant you."

"No, please," David put up his hand. "I have _no_ idea what to do with _any_ of this."

"You look like you have it all under control," Patrick told him, looking around and tidy and well-organized office space.

"I am _very_ good at creating a facade that evokes a sense of competence and capability, when in fact I am holding it all together by my fingernails." David didn't mean to get so… honest? in the middle of pizza in his back room. But here he was, letting Patrick see behind the curtain. He cautiously glanced over, wanting to gauge his reaction, half-expecting to see Patrick laughing at him. But he was met with no trace of disgust or amusement, just genuine interest.

"I don't think of you as anything _but_ competent and capable," he said quietly.

"Well that's because of said facade," David replied, fakely casual, picking at a string from his distressed jeans. "It is very well made."

He felt a warm hand in his knee, and looked up as Patrick whispered, "David." He leaned in to kiss him, soft and sweet and saying all the things he couldn't. 

They separated after a few seconds, and sat smiling at each other. 

"So!" David said, breaking the moment. "How do we go about this whole… replying to the government thing?" 

Patrick put down his pizza, still smiling. "I can make copies and type up a draft letter for you to look at?" David nodded over a bite of pizza. "I can work on that tomorrow afternoon, and maybe you can come over after work? I'll make you dinner." A flush crept up his neck while he was talking.

"Are you asking me on a third date in the middle of our second?" David teased, secretly delighted. He put his pizza slice back in the box.

"I can't take a chance and risk you getting asked out by someone else before I got to."

"Yes, well I'm wildly popular," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Patrick scooted closer, putting his hand on the back of David's neck. "So is that a yes to dinner tomorrow?" David leaned forward, letting his smile press into Patrick's. 

Patrick shifted, bringing his other hand to David's shoulder, pulling him closer. David brought both of his hands to Patrick's waist, parting his lips to lick into his mouth, inviting his tongue out. He reciprocated, taking David's lower lip between his and giving a nibble. David couldn't have held back his groan if he tried, moaning into Patrick's mouth. Patrick moved his hand up into David's hair, holding tight with his fingers, pressing them closer together. He gave a little tug and David gasped. He moved his hands from Patrick's waist to the small of his back, tightening their embrace. The hand on David's shoulder moved down, feeling across his chest and ribs, moving down to his hip. 

Without a thought, David shifted, moving one knee over Patrick's legs, climbing on top and straddling him on the couch. Patrick's hands froze in place, and _fuck, that was a bad idea_. David was just about to climb back off when Patrick came alive, pulling at David hungrily. The fingers in his hair tightened, causing another moan, while the hand on his back roamed down, grabbing his ass forcefully. David bucked his hips, rocking into Patrick, his erection growing tight in his pants. He could feel Patrick, too, stiff beneath his jeans, as they moved together. 

Patrick's strong hand squeezed tight, and David leaned forward, feeling the friction their cocks struggle in the denim. He pulled back to catch his breath.

" _Fuck._ "

Patrick panted, loosening his grip in David's hair while moving his other hand up to his back. "Yeah," he said breathlessly. 

David shifted his weight, leaning back to keep some distance between their mutual arousal. He moved his hands up Patrick's chest, slowly to feel the muscles under his sweater, before letting them settle on his shoulders. He glanced up, meeting his eyes.

"You are the most amazing person I have ever met," Patrick whispered, using both of his hands to cradle David's face. 

_He thinks that now, but just wait,_ his betraying mind told him. He forced the thought out by leaning forward. This kiss, while not passionate or hurried, was honest and emotional, saying words that he could not. _Thank you,_ and _No, I'm not,_ and _You think that now,_ and _You're wonderful._

When they pulled apart this time, slower and with more affection, David kissed him on the forehead before pulling him into a hug. _Will he think it's weird to hug after a make-out that hot?_ He ignored his worries and held tight, reminding himself that sometimes he could do things to make himself feel good, too. And this, simply holding this smart, funny, beautiful, incredible man felt good. Felt secure. Grounded him to this moment.

After a comfortable silence longer than either would have anticipated, David pulled back and gave him one more quick kiss before climbing off. 

"Let me get those products for you," he said softly, standing from the couch and heading into the store. 

He felt good. Light. _Happy_. All from some less-than-great pizza and better-than-great kissing? He allowed himself to smile in the privacy of the empty space. 

He returned moments later with his arms full. "I think this is everything," he said, placing them on the table beside the pizza boxes. Patrick took another bite and lifted a bottle of lube to inspect the bottle. "We have a variety of flavors, but they all have the same label." 

Patrick nodded and picked up the packaged candy underwear. It was tacky, and if it wasn't such a stupidly big seller he would have dropped it months ago.

"Does this really taste like chocolate?" He asked, holding up the jar of Tae's body paint.

"Actually yes, it's pretty good. Our supplier had me sample some before I'd agree to sell it, which I thought was a pretty good marketing strategy. Now I can suggest it and give my opinion honestly."

"Do you do that with all of your products?" Patrick was still peering at the label, but David wondered if he was even reading it. Presumptuous.

"Are you asking me if I have _personally_ used the sex toys that I sell?" He made a point to ask in a flirty way, not a bitchy way. He noticed Patrick's face falter for a fraction of a second before making eye contact, cool and confident.

"I think I am," he replied evenly, matching David's intense gaze. 

"I have a pretty well-rounded collection," he said nonchalantly. Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Is that something you'd be interested in?" He asked pointedly.

"I think…" Patrick cleared his throat and looked down at the table. "I think I would be." 

David smiled. "Then I'll give you a tour some time."

Patrick glanced back up at him, looking great full. "Okay."

David reached for his abandoned slice of pizza, giving them both permission to slip back into their previous, easier conversation. They laughed and teased and told stories, trying to one-up each other on the best pizza they'd ever had (Patrick seemed to think his hometown had the best but David _knows_ it's in New York).

David stood to gather the empty pizza boxes and Patrick started putting the vendor agreements into his folder. He glanced at his phone. 

"It's almost ten," he said, sounding surprised.

"Wow, I can honestly say I didn't expect _four_ hours to come out of shitty pizza and some business agreements," David replied. "But I'm glad it did."

Patrick stood and made his way over to him, wrapping his strong hands around David's waist and pulling him close. "I am, too," he said softly. David's arms circled around Patrick's neck and he leaned in. They stood there, holding each other and pressing a chaste kiss.

"I'll walk you to your car," David offered. They grabbed their things and headed to the door hand-in-hand, pausing so David could lock up. When they got to Patrick's car he leaned into the door, pulling David down into another sweet kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

David bit down a smile and nodded. "Tomorrow," he repeated. Patrick kissed him again.

"Goodnight, David."

"Goodnight, Patrick."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We earned our Explicit rating on this one!
> 
> Also, Patrick's apartment is canon, same as season 5.

"So you're sitting there, _on_ his lap, _sucking_ _face_ , and you _don't_ make a move?"

David shot his best friend a dirty look.

"You're so elegant," he sneered. She rolled her eyes. "But to answer your question, no. In fact, I stopped it before it went farther."

"Why?" She asked, reaching across the counter to steal a Red Vine from him. "Were you afraid he might be working with a…" she held up her pinky finger and wagged it. 

"Okay _first o_ f all, you're disgusting. And second, I can tell you from the tent he was pitching that that is _not_ the case."

"Oh, good," she laughed. "Would hate for that to be the deal breaker."

"No, I doubt anything of his would be a deal breaker," David replied quietly, taking a bite from his candy.

"Okay, so what's the big deal?"

David was quiet for a moment, finishing his licorice and thinking. He knew the answer, it had been swirling around his head for days. "He's different," he started. "I want this to be different. _I_ want to be different." He took a deep breath and looked at his friend. "I don't want this to burn hot and fast. I'm not ready for this to be over yet."

"Wow, Rose, that was strangely sentimental." He rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I do. But I _also_ know how he ogles you with his big puppy dog eyes so…"

"He does not _ogle_ me," David snapped. 

"Right, he's just taken by your timeless beauty," she snorted. He snatched the licorice away from her.

"You know what? You've lost your candy privileges!"

"That's fine, I need to get going anyway." She pushed off the counter and made her way to the door. "Just try to grow some balls and grab his." 

The door shut before David had a reply.

8===D

David parked the Lincoln in front of a small brick building, double checking the address Patrick had texted him. Yep, right building. And he was three minutes early for the time he was to arrive. 

He sighed. There was really no reason to wait any longer.

He made his way up the narrow, dingy hallway (this did not look like the kind of building anyone would be safe in) to the third floor and knocked on door 5.

Patrick opened the door, looking amazing in his charcoal gray henley and dark wash jeans.

"David, hey," he said breathlessly, stepping forward to pull him into a kiss. "You look great," he whispered into David's lips, running his hands up and down his biceps. "I like this sweater, it's so soft."

David looked down at his Saint Laurent zebra-striped sweater, suddenly thankful for choosing something so tactilely alluring. Patrick followed his eyes downward.

"David, did you bring _two_ bottles of wine?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," he held them out. "I put this on you. I _asked_ what we are having, and you refused to tell me, so I was forced to bring both red _and_ wine." 

Patrick grinned and accepted the bottles. "Thank you, David. This was very thoughtful."

"I'm a very thoughtful person," he replied flippantly, following Patrick into the apartment. 

"Make yourself at home," Patrick told him, "dinner will be ready in five." He returned to the stove while David turned to take in the room. 

Room, singular. The small apartment was a studio, though (mostly) tastefully decorated. He moved past the gray couch and small easy chair to get a closer look at the pictures on the large brick fireplace. Two black and white canvases hung side by side behind the mantle, which held a few framed photographs: Patrick in a cap and gown, standing between an older couple (his parents, most likely); Patrick with his arm around the same woman (has to be his mother, then); a candid shot of young patrick and two other boys in baseball hats and t-shirts. All of the pictures captured his boyish glee, a genuine smile in each one. He could look at these for hours. 

He turned to look behind him, the shabby coffee table ( _oh this will never do_ ), the small table with two chairs, the beautiful shelving near the 'bedroom' holding his never-ending collection of button-ups. It was small, sure, and would never be something David would choose, but it was actually quite nice. It seemed to fit Patrick: modestly stylish, sensible, comfortable. It felt like a home. 

Patrick walked over and wrapped his arms around David's middle. "Would you care to join me at the table?" David looked down at him and smiled, laying one arm over his shoulders and following his lead to the dining area. After he was seated, Patrick carried the plates over and placed one in front of David. "Lemon parmesan chicken with wild rice," he announced. "What pairs best with this?"

"The white," David replied, tucking back a smile. Dinner looked delicious and smelled even better. Patrick uncorked the chardonnay and poured two glasses. 

"Patrick, this is amazing," David all but moaned when he took a bite. 

"Thank you, David," he smiled. He loved the way Patrick said his name often, as if he enjoyed saying it. He enjoyed hearing it. It made him feel important. Seen.

"Any fun weekend plans?" Patrick asked.

"Stevie is helping me with inventory after close tomorrow, so if you consider doing all the work while she gets high, then trying to catch up the rest of the night 'fun,' then sure." David took a sip of wine. "Sunday I've got a family thing, and will probably take a nap or two." Patrick was looking at him fondly. "What?"

"Nothing," he laughed, shaking his head. "Only David Rose could make inventory and sleeping seem interesting."

" _You're_ the business guy," David pointed. "Isn't doing paperwork all night, like, your wet dream?"

Patrick’s eyes twinkled. "You thinking about my wet dreams, David?" He teased. David blushed and turned his attention back to his plate. 

After they were finished, David went to take his empty plate to the sink, but Patrick stopped him by refilling his glass.

"I'll take that," he instructed, "you go sit on the couch." David followed direction and made himself comfortable, setting his wine glass on a leather coaster. After a moment, Patrick joined him, sitting close.

"Thank you for dinner," David said quietly. 

"Any time."

"Don't say things you don't mean," he teased.

Patrick looked at him with complete honesty, it was almost too hard to look at. "I would never." David smiled. "Before I forget…" he started, standing from the couch.

"Oh, do I distract you?"

Patrick stopped at his desk and turned around, giving an intense look. "You know exactly what you do to me." He came back with a large envelope and folder. "Here are the originals and copies of the vendor agreements, as well as the letter from you."

David took the papers and read over the letter. "This is perfect," he said, "I could never write something so… professional? This is great. Thank you." 

"You're welcome, David," he said earnestly. "Just sign the letter, if there's nothing to change, and stick it in the mail. The envelope is ready to go." He turned it over in his hands to see it already addressed with postage. He set it and the folder on the table.

"You can cook, you can fix people's businesses, you're gorgeous… how has no one snatched you up yet?"

"I guess I just hadn't met the right guy," Patrick replied softly, moving closer until their lips met. David parted his lips, letting Patrick's tongue in, bold and fearless, not at all hesitant or unsure like before. He could get used to this newfound confidence.

He leaned into the embrace, feeling Patrick's strong arms wrap around his waist. David brought his hands up around his shoulders, tucking his fingers under the low collar of his shirt. He felt hands slide under the hem of his sweater, fingertips burning his skin. He inhaled deep, breathing in Patrick's scent, while moving his mouth to taste him more. How has he gone so long without kissing this man?

Patrick shifted, his hands moving up David's back, fingers splayed out on his bare skin. "Can I…?" He asked into his mouth. David nodded, pulling back far enough to untangle himself from his sweater. He straightened it out and set it over the arm of the chair, pausing when he turned around. Patrick's eyes were raking over his naked chest, wide and wild, before grabbing at his shoulders to pull him back into a hard kiss, fingers running through the hair on his chest. 

David smiled into their kiss. "Yours too," he mumbled, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He leaned back and let David strip him, giving a moment for a reciprocal once-over before coming together again. 

Feeling Patrick’s fingers on his skin was nothing compared to the feeling of their bare chests pressed together, hot and heaving with breath. He felt the drag of blunt fingernails down his back, and followed Patrick's lead as he pulled him back, laying against the arm rest, David's weight on top. Their knees were slotted together, and Patrick's strong hands ran down to firmly grasp David's ass, pulling them tighter. David rocked into him, feeling Patrick's erection rutting up against his thigh, knowing his own was just as hard. 

David pulled back from his mouth far enough to kiss a trail along Patrick's jaw like, biting and nipping and licking to the base of his neck. 

"Oh, god, David," came a hoarse whisper, in time with another thrust of the hip, and he returned to Patrick with a hungry smile.

"You're so fucking hot," he growled, and leaned down for kiss. Before they met, Patrick grabbed his lower lip between his teeth, giving a tug. David moaned and pressed his knee deeper between his legs, pressing into Patrick's hard cock.

"Oh, fuck," Patrick mumbled. David had never heard him swear like that, and knowing _he_ was the cause of this straight-laced man's unraveling was erotic. He pressed his leg harder, holding pressure against Patrick's bulge. "Please," he whispered, "please touch me."

David didn't have to be told twice. He slid a hand down Patrick's chest and abs and over his jeans, palming his erection and giving a squeeze through the denim. Patrick dug his fingers into David's ass and bucked into him. Oh, this was fun.

David brought his fingers to the button of Patrick's jeans. He pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Is this okay?" He asked seriously.

Patrick nodded hard. "Yes, yes," he pleaded.

David hastily unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans with deft fingers. He leaned up while Patrick lifted his hips to pull them down his ass. David ran his fingers lightly over the outline of his dick, straining against the fabric of boxer briefs, tip wetting with precum.

"David," he whined. David looked up at him with a satisfied smirk. He hooked his fingers around the waistband, looking at Patrick for permission, who was nodding, staring at David with wide eyes and blown pupils.

David pulled down on the fabric, releasing Patrick's hard and leaking cock. He ran a delicate finger along the velvety smoothness, from base to tip, stopping to encircle his head, red and hard with arousal. He glanced back up, meeting Patrick's pleading eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he said in a low voice. Patrick whined while his eyes rolled back in his head. He looked back down, Patrick's dick throbing in his hand. He felt his mouth salivating at the sight. "Can I taste you?" He asked, hardly above a whisper. 

"Oh _god,_ yes!" Patrick bucked his hips, and David grinned at his enthusiasm. He shifted himself to the floor, he knees between Patrick's feet, and paused for a moment to take in the sight. Long and hard, with a prominent vein pulsating, red tip glistening with precum. "I probably won't long," he warned, placing a gentle hand on David's cheek.

"I take that as a compliment," David smirked, taking his girth in his fist.

"You should."

Dave leaned forward on his knees. He wanted to take his time, but that would have to wait until next time ( _will there be a next time?_ ), because now, this man needed to be ravished. He tentatively brought his mouth down, circling his tongue around the head, tasting the salty heat. Patrick moaned from above, and without hesitation he lowered himself over the length, closing his lips around the base. He ran his tongue from base to tip, still enveloping with his mouth, as Patrick gasped. He used one hand for to hold the base, the other gently massaging his balls, while he sucked in his cheeks, causing Patrick's hips to jerk up. _Oh, he wants it that way?_

David took a breath before opening his throat, pulling his entire length into his mouth and bobbing down on him. A guttural noise told him he was doing the right thing, so he kept the pressure and tempo while maintaining gentle movement with his tongue.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come!" Patrick grasped at his shoulders, emphasizing his warning, but David dared not let go. He sucked harder, pulling Patrick over the edge until he felt his hot, bitter climax in the back of his throat. He swallowed, slowing down his movements to ride out the orgasm. 

David released him, wiping the side of his mouth, and looked up at Patrick. His chest was heaving and his eyes were glassy, and he looked thoroughly fucked. _God_ he was beautiful. 

"C'mere," he whispered between breaths, tugging at David's arms to bring him up. He climbed up and met him for a kiss, and was surprised when Patrick's urgent tongue probed deep, searching for his own taste in David. "Fuck," he sighed when they parted. "No one's ever done that."

"Sucked your dick?" How was _that_ possible?

"No, ah," he cleared his throat, blushing under his already flushed skin. "I've never finished in… no one's ever, um, swallowed." He looked down, suddenly embarrassed.

"They've been missing out," David whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Patrick pressed back hungrily, raking his nails down his chest and to his jeans. 

"Can I?" He asked with apprehension. 

"You can do whatever you want," David said softly. "But don't feel you _have_ to do anything."

"David," Patrick said with a sober voice. "I want to touch your cock now." 

His mouth ticked up in a smile. "Then who am I to deny you?" He kissed him, softly and sweetly, as Patrick unfastened his pants, pushing down the fabric to release David's throbbing erection from his waistband. His strong and gentle hands brushing over the sensitive skin. He looked up, his eyes holding a look of wonder and excitement. _Has anyone ever looked at me like such a prize?_ He knew the answer. 

After some grasps and squeezes, getting a feel, Patrick moved himself down and brought his face down. David shifted to move his jeans down and Patrick pressed his nose into the skin of his hip, nuzzling and kissing the tender skin. Hand still on his length, he stroked softly while moving his mouth around, exploring and tasting and _cherishing._

At last, Patrick's lips made their way to the base of his dick, mouthing up his length to the swollen, leaking head. He ran his tongue over David's slit while giving a firm squeeze. He gasped, feeling shivers up his spine. Patrick noticed and smiled confidently, bringing mouth down over him. _God_ he looked so good with his lips around a cock.

He stroked and licked expertly, never taking in his whole length but sucking perfectly on his head. David tried to keep himself from thrusting too aggressively, but when he would buck, Patrick's grip became tighter and it was he could do to contain himself.

He felt a coil tighten, pressure building and threatening to burst. "I'm close," he choked, "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah, come for me," Patrick demanded, sending a surge to his dick. "I wanna see you come."

And he did. He came hard, ribbons of cum painting his stomach as Patrick expertly stroked him through orgasm. 

As he caught his breath, he looked for a tissue, but Patrick had another idea. He sat forward on his knees and licked up his belly, cleaning the cum with his tongue.

" _Fuck_ that's hot," David groaned. 

Patrick simply gave a sexy smirk and stood, giving him a soft kiss and whispering, "Stay here." As if his legs would even work right now. 

Patrick returned with a warm towel, cleaning the rest of their mess and tucking David back into his pants. He dropped the cloth on the floor and curled up into David's side, giving him another kiss.

"I just want you to know that I didn't come here expecting anything to happen," David told him. 

"Well I want _you_ to know I was really hoping something would." They grinned at each other and kissed again. And again.

They lay on the couch for over an hour, limbs intertwined, kissing lazily and whispering to each other. Patrick had gone quiet on his chest, breaths deep and even. No one had ever fallen asleep on David before, not intentionally. He had never been comfortable enough to let it happen. Until now. Being with Patrick felt so secure, so safe. He wanted to stay like that, running fingers through his soft hair, but a treacherous yawn betrayed him, and caused Patrick to stir.

"Oh, sorry," he murmured sleepily, "I didn't mean to doze off."

"It's fine," David assured him, and really meant it. "I should probably get going anyway." He reluctantly gathered the papers from the table.

Patrick walked him to the door. "Thank you for coming over tonight, David." He said softly, pulling him into another soft kiss. _I'll never get tired of these,_ he thought. 

"Goodnight, Patrick," he said softly.

"Goodnight, David. Text me when you get home?"

His chest warmed with the thought of Patrick's concern. No one had ever cared what happened to him after he left. He pulled him into a deep, lingering kiss. 

"Of course."

On the drive home, something Patrick had said suddenly came to the front of his mind. _I guess I just hadn't met the right guy._

As in, maybe he has now?

 _Oh_.

He couldn't contain his smile the whole way home. 


	9. Chapter 9

"How many of these bottles are up there?" David held up a small container of massage oil from the shelf near the lubricants. He turned to look at Stevie, sitting cross-legged on the counter with a joint between her lips.

"What bottles?" She asked.

"The warming massage oils," he sighed. "There should be some 3oz bottles up there by you." She gave him a blank stare. "If you come here claiming to help, you should at least _pretend_ to try!" He snapped, storming up to her.

"I never claimed to want to help," she told him with a cloud of smoke.

"They're right _here._ Six. Is that so hard?" He scribbled in his notebook. 

"Yep." She pulled out her phone and started typing. 

"Aren't you a little too stoned for a booty call?"

"That's not even possible," she mumbled, sticking her phone back into her shirt pocket. 

"Whatever," he said as he moved back to the other oils. "You're not fucking in my store."

"No, that privilege is only for you."

"I have not _fucked_ in my store!" David shouted. 

Stevie grinned menacingly. "Yet." 

He turned around and ignored her, counting and writing down numbers. _Eleven 3oz warming oils, plus the six up front… Seven 11oz warming oils… Four 11oz regular oils… When did that shipment come in again?_

Almost an hour had gone by and David had only finished the center of the store, not even beginning in the shelving on the walls or by the register. At least Stevie had made decent progress, finishing the whole joint and two bags of candy penises.

There was a knock on the front door.

"Jake took longer than usual," David mused.

"It's open!" Stevie called. He whipped around to face her.

"You left it unlocked?!" He hissed. "It could be a murderer!"

"A murderer who knocks?"

The bell dinged above the door. 

" _Finally!_ " Stevie jumped from the counter. "I'm _starving._ "

"That's disgusting," David sneered. 

"It's just… burgers?" Said a man's voice.

David turned to the door in shock. "What are you doing here?" He gaped. 

Patrick was standing by the door, holding a plastic bag full of take-out containers, looking rather confused.

"Stevie texted me?" 

" _Why_?"

"Because you were annoying me and I wanted food," she said with a shrug, taking the bag and walking to the back.

"I'm sorry, I can go," Patrick stammered. "I just thought, when Stevie texted, she said--"

David stopped him with a kiss. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly. 

"Oh."

"I just didn't expect it," he continued. 

"I'm going to eat all the fries!" Stevie shouted from the office. David rolled his eyes.

"Get your grubby hands off of my food!" David growled and stormed off, leaving Patrick dazed and confused.

"So how's inventory going?" Patrick asked from where his place on the couch. David perched next to him, leaning against his shoulder with his legs tucked under himself.

Stevie laughed, sitting in the office chair with her feet propped up on the desk. David shot her a look.

Patrick squeezed his shoulder and ate another fry. "That good, huh?" 

"It's just so time consuming for one person," he sighed.

"I thought Stevie was helping you?" 

" _Helping_ is a bit of a stretch."

"Hey, I'm here for moral support," she muttered from her burger.

"Is it moral to smoke so much weed in a place of business?" David snapped. 

"It'll air out by Monday morning," she shrugged.

"What program do you use?" Patrick asked.

"My own? I just keep track in my notebook," David said. 

"You don't use the POS report?" 

"I do, I print it all every night when I make the deposit," he said matter-of-factly.

"What about the monthly report?" David froze. He didn't know there was a monthly report. The IT guy on the phone talked him through the daily report during set-up, but nothing else. _Shit. What else am I doing wrong?_

Patrick must have seen the panic on his face. He leaned close, tightening his arm around David's shoulder. "Hey, why don't you show me how you do it when we're done eating, and I'll see if there's anything I can do to help?"

David relaxed in his arms. "Thank you," he murmured. He was trying really hard to not seem incapable of running his own business, but of course that was going to be a short-lived venture. The cracks in his facade were getting bigger the closer Patrick got, but as much as that made David nervous, he knew that Patrick wasn't one to mock or ridicule him. 

After they finished eating, and Patrick forfeited his leftover fries to Stevie again ("She's a damn seagull, you know that, right?" David had told him), the two went back into the store. David showed him his notebook ( _only_ the select pages of inventory, of course), explaining how he did his count, verifying numbers against invoices and nightly sales reports.

"I have an idea," Patrick said. "I'd have to use your computer, download a program to help, but I think I could make this much easier for you."

"Really?"

Patrick shrugged. "Sure. If that's something you're interested in, I can work on the computer while you finish here, and then next month you can use the new system?"

David's mouth went dry. "You think you'll still want to come around in a month?"

"Of course," Patrick said with a frown. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I can be a little much for people," he replied, softly and honestly. "I don't have the best track record."

Patrick stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him tight. "Then I'll just have to quote you from last night." David raised an eyebrow. "They've been missing out." He pulled David down into a soft but strong kiss.

After they parted, Patrick went back to the office and David finished counting stock in the front. Stevie returned to her original perch, being anything but helpful, for the next hour or so. Finally, after what seemed like the entire night, he was done.

"Here is your prize," Stevie announced, handing him a second, smaller joint from her pocket.

"Why do I get the small one?"

"Because _I_ got the weed through _my_ connections," she deadpanned. 

"Okay I know your _connection_ is just Mutt, don't act like you have street cred."

"I've got more than you," she countered. "You couldn't get pot off of Tennessee if you traded her for a pine cone."

"Oh please, like _you_ could get ahold of molly during Jojo Siwa's tenth birthday party at Nickelodeon Studios."

"Now _that_ is a story I'll have to hear sometime," Patrick laughed, carrying the laptop out from the office.

"Ask Miranda Cosgrove, she was there," David replied with a wave of his hand. "Did you get everything figured out?"

"Yes, let me show you the spreadsheets." He explained the 30-day free trial he downloaded on an inventory program. He said that the POS system would automatically upload daily transactions to the computer, they'll go right into the spreadsheet, and then something else but David's eyes started to glaze over so Patrick stopped and laughed. "We'll do it next month, okay?" David wrapped him up in an embrace.

"Can I keep you on retainer?" He asked between kisses. "What is your rate?"

"I'll invoice you," Patrick teased. 

"Can you two stop playing tonsil hockey so I can go home?" Stevie called.

Patrick offered to drive them both to Stevie's apartment. When they pulled in, she climbed out of the back seat, but stuck her head back in through the window.

"If you're not up in five I'm locking the door," she said, reaching to ruffle David's hair.

"Away!" He screeched.

After she sauntered off and David fixed his hair as best as he could in the visor mirror, he turned to face Patrick.

"Thank you for tonight," he whispered.

"Of course. I really like spending time with you."

"You say that now," he mumbled.

"I say that always." He reached over and touched David's face gently, leaning in for a sweet kiss. "When can I see you again?"

If it wasn't so dark, Patrick might see the blush burning David's face, or the uncomfortable yet flattered look in his eyes.

"Later this week?" He offered. "Like Wednesday? I'd like to make it sooner, but I just… don't want you to get sick me yet." 

"I don't think that's gonna happen," Patrick told him gently. "But if you want to wait, we'll wait." He kissed him again, deep and tender. David let the kiss to speak for him, thank him for his patience and understanding, for his support and kindness. 

They parted, sooner than either would have liked, to a chime on David's phone. 

> **[Stevie Budd]**
> 
> 90 seconds ⏰

"You probably go," Patrick warned. "She doesn't seem like one to bluff."

"Never," David agreed. 

8===D

They texted off and on most of Sunday, between David's naps and Patrick's hikes (Really? Who does that?). 

They texted some on Monday. A usually slow day for the store, David suspected Patrick was much busier since his replies came few and far between. He gave up on trying to carry on a conversation, resolving to text again after 5, when Patrick was likely to have more time. He was surprised to get a message from him shortly before 2.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Sorry I've been too busy to talk much today. Can I call you after close?

David grinned. Knowing that Patrick was as eager as he was to continue this… whatever this was… it was comforting. Reassuring.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> I'd like that. 

The rest of the day dragged, despite Roland and Jocelyn coming in to ask a million questions about the appropriate uses for warming massage oils. He used some of his down time to acquaint himself with the inventory program Patrick had installed (he'd left a sticky note on the monitor-- _username: rose.david password: StevieRocks247 you can change when you log in_ ). It looked like it was all in another language, and he could barely navigate how to log on, let alone change the password. He _really_ hoped Patrick wouldn't want to end things in the next 30 days. Well, ever, really, but he had to be realistic. 

Thanks to the slow day, the store was completely clean, stocked and straightened by the time the doors locked. David quickly closed out the register and hurried outside, pausing only to lock the door before pulling out his phone. 

Patrick answered on the second ring.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to call _you_?" He teased. 

"Well I was tired of waiting on you," David quipped.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." He could hear his smile over the phone. "I was thinking about Wednesday. Any opinions on where we should go?"

"You know I have an opinion on everything," David scoffed. 

"Of course." 

"Actually, I was wondering," he started shyly, "and you can totally say no or whatever, it was just an idea--"

"David." Patrick stopped him, with kindness in his voice. "Just say it."

"I was thinking that maybe we could eat at your place again?" He could feel himself cringe.

"Really?" Patrick asked. _Fuck._ Terrible idea.

"It's just that dinner was really good, and it was the first home-cooked meal I've had in years?" David backtracked. "That didn't have Doritos or Fritos as a main ingredient."

"David, hey." Why was he always so calm? "I would love to cook for you again."

David swallowed. "You would?"

"Absolutely. I would have offered, but I didn't want you to assume, you know, I was trying to get you to put out."

David snorted. "Well, I may be amenable to that," he said provocatively.

"Noted," Patrick chuckled. "But honestly, I really like cooking for people. I haven't gotten to do it a lot lately."

"You never cooked for Ken?" He regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth.

"I tried once, but he had so many ever-changing dietary restrictions, I just couldn't keep up. Who is allergic to garlic, but not garlic powder?"

"That can't be real. You're lying."

"Oooh I wish I was," Patrick said with another strong, silky laugh. "So you'll come over after close then?"

David sighed loudly for dramatic effect. "I'll have to check my _very_ busy schedule, but I'm sure I can pencil you in."

"I appreciate that, David."

"Should I have my people send over my list of allergies?"

"Oh, please do." 

They stayed silent for the rest of David's walk to the motel, both smiling and listening to the other breathe. Enjoying each other's company from afar.

  
  


> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Allergies: pitted fruits, the color fuchsia, people who listen to Creed unironically.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Damn, guess I should hide my fuschia Creed shirt and throw out this peach pie

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> I'm sure you're joking, but if not, you need to burn that shirt.
> 
> And bake a different pie.

8===D

David was (slightly) less nervous pulling up to Patrick's apartment this time around. He made it up the stairs and knocked on the door, only to hear "It's open!" Inside, Patrick was at the stove, stirring a pot of red sauce. David made his way over and wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging into his back.

"Whatcha making?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Spaghetti with a homemade sauce," Patrick said, turning his head to kiss David.

"Smells good."

" _You_ smell good," Patrick counter. David hummed in response, reaching over to stick his finger in the pot.

"Tastes good, too."

" _You_ taste good, too," Patrick mimicked with a sly smile. David raised his eyebrows at him.

"You have to at least feed me dinner first," he quipped. Patrick just grinned, kissing his cheek in response.

"Oh, before I forget," he said as he moved the pot from the burner, pausing to stir the boiling pasta. "I'll be passing through town tomorrow afternoon for a meeting. Do you want to grab lunch?"

David sucked in a breath. "I would absolutely love to," he said cautiously, "but I kind of have a standing lunch date with my mom on Thursdays? And as much as I'd rather spend time with you, it is _far_ too early in our relationship to introduce you to all of _that._ " He used his hand to wave in the distance. 

Patrick paused, turning around with his arms crossed over his chest and an upside-down smile on his lips. "Our _relationship,_ huh?" 

David froze for a second. Was that the wrong word? Were they just casual, not labeling anything? 

But then Patrick stepped forward and kissed the panic off of his face. "I like this relationship," he whispered, and David relaxed into him.

A beeping from the oven interrupted them.

"Garlic bread," Patrick whispered, then released him to pull a pan out of the oven. "I'll plate this, but do you want to set the rest of the table while I drain the noodles?" 

David had never set a table before. He'd been seated at enough gala meals and fundraiser dinners to know _how_ to, but doing it felt different. Alien, but something he didn't know he wanted. 

He was just pouring two glasses of wine when Patrick's phone rang from the counter. He glanced down. 

"My mom," he said guiltily. "I forgot to tell her I was busy tonight."

"Answer it," David waved. Patrick looked like he _actually_ wanted to talk to her, which was insane, but he wasn't going to stop it.

"Hey Mom! … I'm good, I'm good. Actually Mom, can I call you tomorrow? I have someone over for dinner. … Uh, yeah, it's David." He looked up with embarrassment that only a mother could instill. David felt his heart speed up. _He told his mother about me?_ "Uh, just a sec, Mom." Patrick lowered the phone and looked at David. "My mom wants to say hi," he whispered. "I'd say no, but now that we're in a _relationship,_ I think you're kind of have to." 

David glared at Patrick's smug smirk. He snatched the phone from his hand.

"Hello?"

"David, hi! It's so nice to get to talk with you!"

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Brewer." He shot a snarky look to Patrick, who rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove.

"Please! Call me Marcy!" She insisted. "Patrick has told me so much about you."

"Oh _has_ he?" He asked, eyeing Patrick who was blushing hard while pretending not to listen. 

"All good things, I swear," she laughed. "Just how handsome you are, how smitten he is with you, how nervous he was for your first date…" David bit down a smile, turning away from Patrick's curious ears.

"I see."

"I don't mean to keep you, Dear, I just wanted to say hello. And to warn you…" 

David sucked in a breath. He had been given The Speech before, from siblings and friends and exes. Never from a mother, though. 

"Patrick can be stubborn sometimes," she continued. "Not unlike his father. Don't let him do something stupid and mess this up, okay?"

"Um, yeah," David stammered. "I'll… do what I can." He was used to being the one who ruined good things, it was strange to be on the other side.

"Of course you will, Dear," she hummed. "Have a wonderful night, David!"

"Thank you, Marcy. Goodnight." He couldn't hide his smile while he hung up and turned to hand Patrick back his phone. "So that is your mom…" he said as Patrick placed hands on his hips. 

"She likes you," he mused.

"Obviously," David sighed with a wave of his hands. He tucked up a smile and laced his arms around Patrick's shoulders, leaning in for a soft kiss. He pulled back with a sharp inhale. "That garlic bread smells amazing."

Patrick laughed. "Then let's eat."

8===D

After finishing dinner and a second (or third) glass of wine, the two retired to the couch, laying in each other's arms.

"I've been thinking," Patrick said softly.

"Oh?"

"I've been thinking about you," he clarified. David hummed and snuggled in closer, kissing along Patrick's neck. "Been thinking about last time you were here." His fingers danced under the hem of David's sweater. "And how much I'd like to do that again." David ran his hands down Patrick's sides, resting them on his hips. "If that's something you'd be interested in." David bit the skin above Patrick's collar bone in agreement, rutting his hips forward. Patrick grinned, leaning down to nibble on his earlobe. "Let's go to the bed," he whispered. 

They stood without actually parting, stumbling across the room, only separating only briefly to remove clothing. When the back of Patrick's legs hit the mattress they paused, kicking off shoes and fighting each other's pants, falling together in a tangle of limbs. 

"I have a confession," Patrick whispered. "I've been practicing deepthroating." 

David's eyebrows sprang up and his dick sprang awake. "You have, have you?" He hoped he sounded casual.

"I have," Patrick replied with a wink. "Would you like to see my progress?"

"Um, yes please!" 

Patrick grinned and kissed his way down, running fingers through the hair on his chest and abdomen. When he reached David's boxer briefs, he had no hesitation before ripping them down and releasing his growing cock. Patrick hummed with delight before taking him in his hands and placing soft kisses up and down the shaft. 

"You taste so good," he whispered, hot breath ticking his sensitive head. He licked and kissed the tip, sucking lightly and swirling around it, before moving his lips lower. As he sucked in David's cock, ever so slowly, he used his tongue to tease the skin underneath, tracing up and down the seam. He bobbed up and down for a few moments, bringing himself down farther every few sucks. His mouth was so hot and wet, David could live there. He twisted his fingers in Patrick's short hair.

Suddenly Patrick took a breath and moved his head down hard, taking in most of his length, until he hit the softness of the back of his throat. 

"Oh fuck!" David cried, not expecting such a force of pleasure. Patrick bobbed back up, unable to stay in that position for more than a moment, but that was perfectly fine. Patrick was so unexpectedly good with his mouth and hands, which were groping and grabbing. He moved back down again, this time letting David thrust into his throat twice before coming back up. It felt so good, David was already feeling close to the edge. "I'm close," he warned, "I'm gonna come."

Patrick pulled off, using his hand to maintain movement. "I want you to come in my mouth," he said calmly, like it wasn't the sexiest thing David had ever heard. 

All he could do was nod, because Patrick had replaced his mouth over his throbbing dick and went back to work, moving faster and harder. David moaned in rhythm, getting closer and closer. 

He came with a loud cry, gripping Patrick's hair while he rode out his climax. Patrick kept his mouth in place, swallowing everything David gave him. After his breathing slowed slightly, Patrick moved back up to the head of the bed.

"That was amazing," he said breathlessly. 

"You're not even the one who just came," David laughed, pulling him down to a kiss.

"I can't help it if I can't get enough of your dick," he mumbled into their kiss. 

" _How_ are you this hot?" David growled, moving his way down Patrick's neck, across his pecs, over his abs. When he reached the waistband, he looked up to find Patrick's beautiful, hungry eyes looking down at him with affection. David took this as an affirming sign and lowered his mouth over Patrick's covered erection. 

Patrick moaned from above as David groped his balls, running his tongue over the bulge. He thrusted his hips eagerly, and David smirked.

"More?" He asked. 

"Mmhmm," Patrick grunted. "More."

David slid down the boxer breifs, exposing Patrick's beautiful cock standing at attention. He traced a finger up the seam to his slit, beading with moisture. 

"Even more gorgeous than I remembered," he said in a low tone.

"David," Patrick whined, bucking his hips. David chuckled at his wanting and grasped his throbbing dick tightly in his fist. Patrick moaned again as he shifted, easing his hand up and down the shaft slowly. He brought his mouth down to run a tongue over his balls. He felt Patrick's body shiver as he sucked on the tender skin.

"More," Patrick pleaded. David's mouth and hand traded places, massaging his balls and licking up his cock. "Mmmm… yes, like that," he sighed. 

David sucked him in deeper, feeling his weight on his tongue, the salty heat filling his mouth. He raked his teeth lightly down the shaft, taking Patrick's gasp as affirmation. He added a little pressure, flicking his tongue over the head every few strokes.

"So good," Patrick moaned. 

David pulled off, using his hand to keep up the rhythm. "Can I try something?" He asked. Patrick looked down at him curiously. "You might like like. And if not, just say so and I'll stop." 

"O-okay."

"I promise it won't hurt," David insisted. "I don't want to do anything you don't want to do." Patrick nodded, a little more sure. "Will you trust me?"

"I trust you," he replied immediately. David smiled and kissed the tip of his dick.

"Lift your hips up a little," he instructed, sliding a pillow under for elevation. Once settled, David returned to his cock for a few more minutes of attention, deepthroating as far as he could. When Patrick started bucking his hips, he moved lower, mouthing again at his balls, gripping his shaft in a spit-slick hand. He lowered himself, licking and kissing across his perineum. Patrick hummed in approval.

David took a deep breath and shifted, sliding a hot tongue over his rim. Patrick gasped and David stopped immediately.

"Is this okay?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, god yes," he moaned. "It's _very_ okay."

David grinned and leaned back in, circling his tongue over again. He moved his fist in rhythm while flicking his tongue back and forth over his rim. Patrick reached down and gripped David's hair, pulling tight.

" _Fuck,_ David, it's so good." 

He pointed his tongue, using it to probe Patrick's hole, fucking him with his mouth. 

"More," he pleaded. "David, please, I need more." 

David moved back, wetting a finger in his mouth and pressing it lightly against his hole. Patrick gasped and rutted against his hand, urging him to continue. 

David obliged, massaging his rim gently while taking his length back into his mouth. He sucked in deep as his finger pulsate, teasing his hole.

"More, David," Patrick said in a strained voice. 

He paused and looked up. "Are you sure?"

" _Yes,_ " He cried as he thrusted down onto David's finger, now breaching him to the first knuckle. He moaned again with pleasure, so David took him back in his mouth, probing and moving his finger tenderly. He gently urged forward to the second knuckle, pausing to let Patrick acclimate, before moving his finger forward, coaxing, curling up against his smooth, hot inner wall. 

"Fuck!" Patrick shouted, and David knew he had hit the right spot. He hooked his finger again, rocking back and forth over his prostate while holding him in his mouth. He stroked and sucked fervently, feeling Patrick's muscles start to twitch around him. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunted, knotting David's hair in his fingers. "David, fuck! Fuuuu---"

He came hard, all muscles tensing, filling David's throat with his heat. David held still, working him through his orgasm, before gently removing himself and climbing up the bed.

Patrick grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him passionately. "Oh my god, David," he breathed.

"I don't think I've ever heard you use such language," he teased.

"I don't think I've ever come so hard," Patrick declared, still red and panting. God, he was beautiful. 

David scooted up, bringing Patrick to lay on his chest, wrapped in his arms.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy," Patrick confessed. David was glad he couldn't see his face from this angle, because he was certain if he saw the earnestness in his eyes, he could cry. 

"Me, neither," he whispered into Patrick's hair. 

"I'm not ready for your to leave," he mumbled, turning to look at David. "Can you stay a little longer? Maybe we can watch an episode of something?"

David hugged him tighter, hiding his smile. "Fine," he sighed, "but I get to pick."

Patrick laughed and climbed out of bed, pulling on his underwear and opening his laptop on his desk, angling it to face the bed. David pulled his boxer briefs up, too, and climbed under the covers. 

"Any of the Great British Baking Show holiday specials," he instructed, pulling the duvet to his chin and settling into the pillows.

"David, it's August."

"There is no off-time for holiday food shows," he declared, welcoming Patrick into the bed with him. They snuggled in close, watching amateur bakers make giant cakes and intricate pastries. Patrick attempted pillow talk, but gave up after David shushed every time, so he resigned himself to only comments about the bakers. David had a _lot_ of opinions about the show, and Patrick just basked in his arms.

When the four-tiered snowman cake won, David dragged himself out of bed and forced himself to get dressed. He didn't think he'd be one to _want_ to stay after sex, that he'd be one to be _wanted_ , but it almost felt wrong to leave. The comfort he felt around Patrick was almost distressing. 

Patrick walked him to the door, still in his underwear, and held him at the door with a long, lingering kiss.

"Talk to you tomorrow?" He asked. 

David smiled and kissed him softly. "Of course."


	10. Chapter 10

David woke to a text from Patrick. It had been sent over two hours ago, because Patrick was an insane person who actually _enjoyed_ waking up before dawn. The last time David was awake at 6am it was because he had yet to go to bed from the night before (thanks to some particularly strong lines of coke at Kate Moss' Manhattan penthouse). Well, and that time he was forced to wander the woods in hopes of shooting a turkey, but he liked to pretend that was a fever dream. 

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Hope you have a good morning, David

It wasn't even a particularly in-depth text, just a short and simple message, but it felt romantic. No one had ever asked him to text them when he got home, to make sure he arrived safely. No one had ever texted him to say good morning, or just to say hi. If he were in denial he might say those late night "hey" texts were friendly, but David knew better. He knew that Patrick was different. 

He also knew that he had no idea what to do with that.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> I already am.
> 
> Because I slept until a normal time like a normal person.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> So sorry that my job requires me to see people before ten in the morning

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Excuse me, you make your own schedule.
> 
> Also, anyone purchasing a dildo before ten is a pervert. 

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> So I should wait until after 12?

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> …

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Oops, time for an appointment. Gotta go! 

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Bastard.

Their conversations throughout the day were similar, just a random question or casual statement or sarcastic quip whenever they had a moment. David loved knowing that Patrick was thinking about him as much as he was. 

Even lunch with his mother, which could be exhausting on the best of days, was perfectly manageable. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, knowing Patrick was leaving him a funny or sweet or interesting text.

" _Day_ -vid, are you _so_ disinterested in your mother's tribulations that you cannot feign enthusiasm?!"

"I'm listening," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I just don't see why it's a big deal that Jocelyn didn't ask you to speak to her class again?"

"She insinuated that my alluction did _not_ produce the desired outcome of promoting encouragement to the young pupils!"

"So?" He took another bite of his pancakes. 

"So those striplings need better guidance than that from a middle-aged mother of two!"

"And that isn't you?"

Moira gasped dramatically. "How dare you ascribe such a _provincial_ existence unto your mother!" She huffed again, taking a long drag from her drink. "I am merely suggesting that a person of great achievement, such as one's self, would be _quintessential_ in the influence of such malleable minds!"

David rolled his eyes again. He was in too good of a mood to argue, so he just agreed with her and let her rant for the remainder of their lunch. 

On his way across the street he checked his phone, to find a picture of a sandwich and an apple.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> IMG_6472.jpg
> 
> Hope your lunch is better than mine.

He shot back the Instagram-worthy photo he'd taken of his food, moments before digging in. 

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Really? Pancakes for lunch?

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Pancakes are perfectly acceptable at any time of the day or night.

> **[Patrick Brewer]**
> 
> Noted. 

  
  


After closing that night, David called Patrick again during his walk home. They talked about Moira's dilemma with Jocelyn, and Marcy's unbridled enthusiasm about their "budding young romance" (her words). 

"Are you busy Sunday?" David asked as he got to the motel, sitting on the picnic table under a burned-out light. 

"I was hoping to see you," Patrick replied.

"I was wondering if I could take you to the farmer's market in Elmridge?"

"Ooh, I don't know. Food trucks, farm-fresh vegetables and local craft vendors? Doesn't sound very interesting to me." Patrick was bad at disguising the smile from his voice. 

"What if I told you that the cookie lady might be there?"

"Well that changes _everything,_ " he laughed. "How can I pass up a chance to possibly see the _cookie lady_?"

"I know you're teasing," David told him. "But her macarons are the best I've tasted outside of Paris."

"I will take your word for it," he said. "I know Sunday is only, like two-and-a-half days away, but is there anyway I can see you before then?"

"Wow, you must really like me," David joked. 

Patrick's voice came back somber. "You have no idea, David Rose."

He paused, feeling palpitations in his chest and burning in his cheeks. "Um, I will let you know," he offered, trying not to sound like he was having a heart attack. 

"Okay," Patrick replied casually. "If you can't, I'll still get you Sunday."

"It's a date."

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> So you know our monster movie night tomorrow?

> **[Stevie Budd]**
> 
> i know of it

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Would you be amenable to allowing a third party to join?

> **[Stevie Budd]**
> 
> ur not fucking patrick on my couch

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Wouldn't dream of it

> **[Stevie Budd]**
> 
> liar
> 
> ur bringing the snacks

8===D

"So tell me again why we need ho-hos _and_ Swiss cake rolls?" Patrick asked when David opened the door to Stevie's apartment.

"Because while Stevie has the palet of a possum, she finds Little Debbie too high-brow."

Stevie shrugged. "I don't trust her," she said, taking the grocery bag from Patrick. "She looks like a bitch."

David kissed Patrick hello and gave him the grand tour, which was completed in one spin, and led him to the worn, ugly (but comfortable) couch. Stevie brought over a beer for each of them, settling down next to David and turning on the ancient box TV in front of them.

"So what is on the agenda for tonight?" Patrick asked as David snuggled into his side with a bowl of popcorn.

" _It Came From Beneath the Sea_ ," Stevie muttered, lighting a joint and taking a deep inhale before handing it over. David took a hit, and offered it to Patrick, who waved it off.

"Shit, wait, are you straight edge?" David asked, suddenly anxious.

"David, I'm drinking a beer," Patrick laughed.

"Oh yeah," he whispered, taking another hit and passing it back to Stevie.

"I just don't want to smoke before I have to drive home later. I can manage one beer, but I always end up smoking too much."

"Okay, that is something we are going to explore!" Patrick laughed again and pulled David tighter, kissing his temple. 

Stevie leaned forward and grabbed a snack cake from the box at her feet.

"Get me one of those," David said, reaching his arm out. 

"Get it yourself," she grumbled with a mouth full of ho-ho. He sighed and grabbed for the other box, handing the popcorn to Patrick. "Hey, no hogging!" Stevie exclaimed, reaching over to take back the bowl.

"If you get butter on my Loro Piana, I'm going to set you on fire," David warned.

"If you get butter on your Laura Piano it's your own fucking fault," she retorted.

"It's Loro Piana and you know it," he pouted, grabbing a handful of popcorn and turning away from her.

By the end of the movie, Stevie was asleep on David, who was asleep on Patrick. 

"Hey," Patrick whispered, ruffling David's hair to wake him. 

"Give it back, Kanye," David said sleepily.

Patrick chuckled. "Movie's over," he said softly. David sat up more, shifting an unconscious Stevie to lean on the arm of the couch, and rubbed his eyes.

"Mmmbed," he grumbled, not fully awake. Patrick stood and pulled him up, walking him to Stevie's bed and helping him climb in. 

"Should I let her sleep on the couch?" He asked.

"Don't poke the badger," David said into his pillow, already drifting back off. He felt a kiss on his forehead, but was too tired to do more than hum in reply. He rolled over as he heard Patrick's footsteps retreat.

But Patrick didn't leave right away. The sound of bottles clinking and plastic crinkling caused David to peek one eye out. There was Patrick, putting the empty popcorn bowl in the sink, throwing away wrappers from their snacks, gathering beer bottles on the sink. It wasn't his house, or even his mess, but here he was, cleaning up. Because that's the kind of person he was.

David didn't move or make any indication he was awake, just laid in a drunk/high/sleepy state and watched in wonder at how _good_ Patrick was. 

Patrick paused, looking around the small apartment once more, before taking an old quilt from a chair and laying it across Stevie on the couch. 

Patrick left the apartment the way he alway made David feel: better than how he found it.

8===D

"I'm surprised to see you awake so early," Patrick teased as he climbed into the passenger side of the Lincoln.

"Okay, it's _barely_ ten," David said. "And I usually don't care to be _ridiculed_ so early into a date, but I'll make an exception. So consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, I absolutely do," Patrick said honestly, leaning over for a long, sweet kiss.

"We really have to get going," David mumbled into his mouth, not moving to break contact.

"The farmer's market doesn't open until 11," Patrick whined, pressing closer. David placed a hand on his chest and pushed back.

"And I _refuse_ to be late!" He asserted, turning to put the car in reverse and back out onto the road. 

They got to the Elmridge Expo Center with twenty minutes to spare, but we're hardly the first to arrive.

"I see why you wanted to leave so early," Patrick mused at the gathering crowd.

"I haven't been to one of these since I opened the store," David told him, "but they've _always_ been busy."

"Why has it been so long?"

"Well they only have this from May through September, and only on Wednesdays and Sundays," he explained. "Obviously I'm open on Wednesdays, and my family always has a thing on Sundays."

"But not today?" 

"Oh, _yes_ today," David smiled at him. "But I wanted to be here instead." He lifted Patrick's hand and kissed his knuckles.

"I'm honored," he replied with a squeeze of his hand.

"You should be, because my mother was _not_ happy that when I told her I'd be skipping brunch today."

"She was mad over missing one brunch?" Patrick clarified.

"I believe she called me a Benedict Arnold? And told me that my 'distressful election' left the family 'wanting and incomplete.'" 

"Wow," Patrick laughed. "I thought _my_ mother was dramatic."

"Oh, _no one_ comes close to Daytime Emmy nominee Moira Rose," David said with a roll of his eyes. 

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"She was on Sunrise Bay," he sighed. Patrick's eyes grew. 

"Oh my god! She was the one stuck in a crystal for, like, half a season!" David eyed him suspiciously. "What?" He shrugged. "My grandma used to watch it."

"Well make sure to mention that and she'll love you."

"David, are you talking about introducing me to your mom?" Patrick asked with a sly smile. 

"I am _talking_ about how to save yourself if ever cornered into conversation with a soap star."

"I can't believe I'm dating daytime television royalty," he teased, and David let go of his hand.

"It's time to go in," he snapped, getting out of the car. 

"Wait!" Patrick called as David walked towards the building. "I didn't get your autograph!"

Patrick caught up to him and gave him a kiss, wrapping an arm around his waist. David signed and acted annoyed as he put his arm over Patrick's strong shoulders, but he was actually loving it. 

They walked in to the building together, making a plan to walk around the perimeter first before visiting the center booths. David stopped at almost every stand offering homemade goods, talking to the vendors and asking questions about their products. He took a card from everyone, whether or not he made a purchase.

"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?" Patrick asked after they stepped away from Heather Warner's table with a bag full of goat cheeses.

"Not specifically," David replied. "I am always looking for new local products to feature in the store, like lotions and candles. I'd like to add more bath products, too, but I'm still feeling out the market." He paused to feel an impossibly soft throw blanket made by a nearby alpaca farm. He picked up a business card and stuck it in his bag. "That's why I get everyone's info, so I can get in touch later to talk about sales and production and stuff." He glanced over at Patrick who was looking at him in wonder. "What?" He laughed nervously.

"That's a really great business plan," Patrick told him. "I'm just really impressed."

"Okay, should I be offended by that comment?"

"Absolutely not!" Patrick explained. "You just claim to not know what you're doing, yet here you are, with a solid plan and great community relationships and a thriving store." 

David smiled and bit his bottom lip. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" Patrick asked. "For telling you the truth?"

"For acting like you believe in me." 

"David, I believe you can do _anything_." He placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down into a fierce kiss. 

"I think I believe you," David confessed when they parted. 

"You should believe in _you_ ," Patrick told him. "You're pretty great." David smiled and turned away, taking Patrick's hand and leading him to a display of body milk. 

After seeing all of the outside booths, Patrick suggested checking out the food trucks pulling up outside before moving to the inner circle of tables. David ordered street tacos and fresh lemonade while Patrick got poutine, and they met at a picnic table in the shade. 

"I think I was promised cookies," Patrick said after they were done eating, lacing their fingers together. 

"Well I can't rescind _that_ offer," David teased with a squeeze, pulling Patrick from the table and towards the building. 

They walked hand-in-hand around the room until Patrick stopped, tugging on David's arm.

"Look, it's the Yoders!" He said, pointing ahead of them. David's blood ran cold as he followed Patrick's finger. Sure enough, there was the little Amish family from all those years ago, standing at a table with paper-wrapped packages. "Didn't you say you like their butter?"

"Um, yes," he said, "I _did_ say that."

"Let's go see if they've got any," Patrick smiled. 

" _Or_ " David suggested, " _you_ can go see if they have any, and I'll keep looking for cookies!"

"What's the big deal?" Patrick laughed. "I'm sure whatever happened, they don't even remember. The Amish are a very forgiving people." 

"I don't think you're right," he replied, letting himself be dragged forward.

"Hey, Mr. Yoder!" Patrick called when they got closer. The tall man looked up in surprise. Aaron, he remembered, and his sour wife Rachel.

"Aah, Patrick! So good to see you again!" He glanced over. "And David. Hello."

"Blessed be the fruit," David winced. Patrick looked at him with amused confusion.

"Miriam," he continued, looking at the young woman. "David has been _raving_ about your butter."

"Thank you, Patrick," she said politely. "The trick is to begin churning early in the day."

David groaned and Aaron shot her a look. "Miriam! Be civil."

"My apologies," she mumbled, focusing on her bland brown shoes. _These people are_ not _as forgiving as Patrick thinks._

"How much for a pound?" Patrick interjected, graciously changing the subject. 

"It is six dollars for one pound, or ten dollars for two," Rachel said curtly, pointedly avoiding David's eye.

"We'll take two then," Patrick agreed, handing over cash, completely oblivious to the fact that three calm Amish people wanted to murder David. "Thank you so much. It was great to see you again." He earnestly shook each of their hands.

"Patrick, you'll be in our prayers," Aaron told him. "Have a bless-ed day."

"May the Lord open!" David called as he was being pulled away. 

"What was _that_?!" Patrick laughed once they were out of earshot. David just groaned again and dropped his head to Patrick's shoulder. 

"I may have tortured them for a 48-hour period a few years ago? And now they hate me forever?"

Patrick just laughed again and rubbed David's back. "I'm gonna need the whole story."

"Fine," he sighed. "But I'm going to need a _lot_ of cookies to make it through."

"Well lucky for you, I see a cookie lady over there." David stood up straight and spun around. Sure enough, there was a small booth covered in platters of cookies and stacks of cake boxes. 

He turned back to Patrick and kissed him hard. "C'mon," he whispered.

They bought four of each cookie, plus two dozen macarons ("One box for me, and one as a peace offering to my mother."). While heading back to the car, Patrick paused at a vibrant produce stand.

"Have any dinner plans?" He asked, and David looked down at the cookies he was holding.

"Um, we just bought it."

"These bell peppers look amazing," he considered, ignoring David's comment. "You want to come over? I can make a nice salad."

"I'm not a big salad person," he contemplated, "but I would be agreeable to some… _eggplant._ " He let his fingers lightly run down Patrick's spine. He felt a shiver, and Patrick turned around with a suggestive smirk. He winked, pressing his back into David's hand, and turned back to bag up some vegetables. 

After paying the woman, Patrick pulled him into a deep kiss. "Take me home, David."

"It would be my pleasure," he said softly.

"Yes, it will be," Patrick said with a wink.

He grabbed the canvas bag and they headed out to the car, both too overloaded to hold hands. On the drive back to Elmdale, Patrick fed him bites of cookie while David recounted his 3 days as a missing person.

"Stevie was the only one who was even _remotely_ worried about me."

"I am sure that's not true," Patrick said, breaking off a piece of a chocolate chip cookie for himself.

"Honestly, I am surprised even she was," David sighed. "I was pretty horrible to her. I was pretty horrible to everyone." He looked over at Patrick. "I wasn't a very nice person back then."

"Well, I can't speak to _that_ David, but I think _this_ David's pretty great." Patrick held out a peanut butter cookie for him to bite. 

"You're just saying that because I'm pretending not to notice you sneaking bites of my cookies," he teased.

"What can I say? You were right about the cookie lady."

"And now that I have her card, we never have to go without," David smiled.

Soon they pulled into the small parking lot in front of Patrick's apartment building. They carried their bags up to the third floor, and piled them onto the kitchen table. 

"Still a little early for dinner," Patrick said as he put the butter and cheese in the fridge.

"So what did you want to do in the meantime?" David asked, crowding him against the counter with his body. Patrick wrapped his arms around David.

"I had a few ideas," he whispered, leaning up for a kiss. It started off chaste enough, but soon turned heated and desperate, with tongue and teeth and grasping hands. David pulled Patrick's shirt up and fumbled with his belt while Patrick's nails raked David's back beneath his sweater. "Off, off," he mumbled, pulling back to yank the knit over David's head. Their mouths reconnected, David unbuttoning Patrick's shirt and pushing it from his shoulders. They pressed close, bare chest together, wandering hands touching and grabbing. 

"Bed?" David whispered. 

"Bed," Patrick confirmed. He grabbed David's hand and pulled him along. They fell together, working on each other's pants, pushing everything off until they were both completely nude, pressed together knee to shoulder. 

David's arms wrapped around Patrick's shoulders, tracing shapes on his back, while Patrick's hand reached between them, slowly stroking David's cock. 

"So what were those ideas you had?" David asked as Patrick kissed his way up and down David's neck.

"Well this was one of them," he replied, nuzzling in close. David smiled, using his nails to scratch. "I really liked what you did last time."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Patrick lifted his head to look David in the eye. "I think I'd like to return the favor. If that's something you'd like."

David's eyebrows lifted. "That is _absolutely_ something I'd like," he said as he arched his back. Patrick's hand tightened on his dick in response. 

He moved away briefly, opening the drawer of his end table and retrieving a bottle of lube. He returned to David for a deep, passionate kiss, before working his way down his body, stopping to admire his dick. The way Patrick looked at it, you'd think his erection could cure cancer. 

He gripped his cock again, kissing and licking and massaging his balls. David groaned, running his fingers through Patrick's short hair. Patrick opened David's legs wider, and started kissing down his shaft, over his balls, down his perineum. Finally he lowered himself to his hole, and licked his tongue over him, wide and hot.

"Uuuhhnnfff," David groaned, hoping to urge him on. Patrick's tongue wasn't at all hesitant or uncertain, expertly circling his rim, pressing flat against him. He speared his tongue in, flicking up and down, and pressed in as deep as he could. David couldn't help himself from reaching down to stroke his own cock, shifting his hips to give Patrick more access. How could a man who, up until a few months ago had never done anything like this be _so fucking_ good at it?! He was practically a wunderkind at analingus. 

"David," he panted from below, "can I put my finger in you?"

"I wish you would," David groaned, thrusting his hips in pleasure. Patrick smirked, _he knows what he's doing to me,_ and reached for the lube. After an agonizing few seconds, David finally felt a finger pressing against him. Cautious, but not nervous, Patrick circled his rim, pressing the pad of his finger firmly over his hole. He shifted how he was sitting, so he could watch David's face while he pressed his finger in to the first knuckle. 

David let out a deep sigh and hummed in pleasure. Patrick planted a kiss on David's knee, inching his finger back and forth to open him up a little more. He eased forward, pressing deeper, moving his finger in a circular motion. It felt so good, but it wasn't enough.

"More," David pleaded. "Add another finger." Patrick didn't even hesitate, pulling out slowly, adding more lube and starting again with two fingers at his rim. David loved the stretch, the feeling of fullness, and _fuck,_ the look of satisfaction and excitement on Patrick's face was a sight to behold. 

He moved back and forth, slowly at first before building to a harder thrust, fucking David with his fingers. He reached his other hand around, removing David's hand from his cock and replacing it with his own, stroking in rhythm with each thrust. 

"Fuck, fuck yeah," David moaned, eyes rolling back. 

"Yeah? You like that?" Patrick asked.

"Yes," he panted. "Oh _god_ , yes."

"How much do you like it?" 

_Is this what he wants? Time to give him a show._

" _Fuck,_ Patrick," be grunted, "I like feeling you fuck me with your big, _thick_ fingers. Mmmm, reaching so _deep_ , fucking me so good."

"What else do you like?" Patrick asked breathlessly, speeding up his hands.

"I like your strong hands grabbing my cock. You feel so good. You're so _fucking_ good."

"You gonna come for me, David?"

David could feel his abs tightening, his legs twitching. "I'm gonna come," he groaned. "I'm gonna come so hard for you."

"You want to come in my mouth?" 

"Oh _shit_ , fuck yeah!" _If he doesn't hurry I'm not gonna make it…_

But Patrick was nothing if not courteous, quickly sucking David's hard, pulsing dick into his hot mouth. He curled his fingers forward, pressing _right there,_ as he pulled David in as deep as he could, pushing his sensitive tip against the soft flesh of his throat.

David came in a burst of white light, crying out, every muscle jerking. Patrick held him in his mouth while he finished, not releasing him until David's body calmed and breathing slowed. He carefully removed his fingers, wiping them on a towel ( _where did_ that _come from?_ ) and crawled up to rest his head next to David. 

He took another minute before opening his eyes. He glanced over, Patrick laying on his side and looking adoringly at him.

"Hi," he whispered. Patrick's smile widened.

"Hi," he replied, leaning down for a kiss. 

"I'm going to reciprocate," David promised. "I just need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," Patrick murmured, kissing and nibbling along his jaw and neck. 

David took a deep breath and turned, rolling over to lay on top of Patrick, feeling his hard dick pressed between them. He ground his hips down. "So what would you like to do now?" He asked in his most seductive voice.

"Actually, I was _hoping,_ " Patrick reached up into the drawer again, this time retrieving his plug, "you'd use _this_ on me?" 

David felt his own tired cock trying to stir with enthusiasm. He gave a side smile, trying to to tone down his excitement. "I think I can do that," he said, leaning down and biting at Patrick's lower lip. He groaned and arched his back, pressing his rigid dick into David's abs. He didn't need to be told twice.

David moved down, kissing and licking his way down Patrick's solid chest, stopping to give a flirty bite to his nipple before continuing down. He took Patrick's shaft in his fist, working him slowly while mouthing at his balls. Patrick moaned above him, getting more comfortable with his hands, which were knotted in David's hair, tugging in time with David's strokes.

"Fuck, David," he groaned. "Your mouth--aaahhh!" 

He couldn't finish his thought, because David moved his expert tongue down to Patrick's rim, spearing in while giving him a firm tug. He flicked his tongue around his rim, alternating light licks and strong presses. Patrick made nonsensical noises from above, encouraging David to continue.

After working him as open as he could with his tongue, he grabbed at the lube and coated a finger. He pressed against his hole, massaging his way in to the first knuckle. Patrick moaned from above, thrusting back against him, and David smiled at his impatience.

"Do you want more?" He asked innocently.

"Yes!" Patrick choked, but David made no move to advance. 

"How bad do you want it?"

"Oh god, David," he grunted. "So bad. I want you so bad."

David obliged, slowly inserting deeper. "You're so hot and _tight,_ " he said in a husky voice. "You like that?"

"Yes, David," he panted. "I love feeling you in me. _Fuck!_ " 

David smiled, working his finger around, moving deeper inside. "Are you ready for more?"

"More," he repeated. "I need more."

David let go of Patrick's now-leaking cock, reveling in his whine, and reached for the plug. It was thicker around than one of David's fingers, but smaller than two. He squeezed some lube onto it with one hand, thankful for the mysterious towel.

"I'm going to move my finger," he explained, "and then I'm going to put in the plug." Patrick nodded, eyes screwed shut. "If you need me to stop, just say so, and I'll stop. Okay?"

"Okay," he whispered, then looked down with wild eyes. " _Please_."

David slowly withdrew his finger, and set the tip of the plug against Patrick's hole. It was slightly tapered, with a narrow girth just before the base. He pressed it, slowly, easing it in. Patrick let out a long moan as he inserted it completely, nothing but the wide base visible. 

"You took that beautifully," David told him, kissing the tip of his glistening cock. Patrick whimpered.

He circled his tongue around the head, flicking over the slit, before slowly working his way down. He sucked gently at first, working up a suction, then began moving up and down on his shaft. With each movement, he gripped the base of the plug, tugging it slightly to increase pressure. He rocked it back and forth, and soon Patrick was moving his hips in time, fucking himself back into the plug and forward into David's mouth. David used his free hand to take Patrick’s, which was now curled in the sheets, and placed them on his head. He understood, and grasped his hair firmly, thrusting hard, fucking David's face. David moaned loudly, letting the vibrations tantalize Patrick's dick, who cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck, David, you feel so good," he moaned. "You're so good."

He thrusted hard, shouting as he held David's head tight, coming in strong spurts into David's throat. 

"Holy _fuck,_ " he whispered as he relaxed, unwinding his fingers from David's hair.

"You're telling _me_ ," David sighed, resting his head on Patrick's hip. "That was so hot."

"I think I want a bigger plug."

David raised his face to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Know anywhere I could get one?" How was it possible for someone to cum so hard and still have the stamina to be snarky?

"Might have an idea," David said wearily. He reached down and tapped the base of the plug. "I'm gonna take this out now," he said. "You ready?" Patrick nodded, so he pulled firmly but slowly, bringing the plug out and dropping it on the towel. 

"Here." Patrick handed him a pack of wet wipes from his drawer. David cleaned him up, then himself, before wiping his hands and dropping everything off the bed. He moved to lay on the pillow beside Patrick. 

"It gets better and better every time," Patrick sighed. "How is that possible? How are _you_ possible?"

"Don't worry, you'll tire of me _long_ before we reach the bottom of my bag of tricks."

"That bag must be never ending," Patrick said, cuddling in close. "Because I don't think I ever get tired of you."

David hummed in response, too tired to argue. They lay still for a few moments, breaths slowing and deepening.

"Are you falling asleep on me?" Patrick whispered. David's eyes shot open. 

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean--" 

"Whoa, hey," Patrick stopped him. "It's fine." He must have seen how unconvinced David felt, because he continued. "I would really like to take a nap with you." 

_Has anyone ever said that to me before?_ Probably not. It's rare that he would be invited to stay the night, and that was usually only when pills or booze fueled them.

"Okay," he whispered.

Patrick leaned up and kissed him. "Be right back." He climbed out of bed and pulled on his boxer briefs before turning off the light and bringing his phone back. "I'll set an alarm so we don't oversleep," he explained, putting it on the table and climbing under the duvet. David grabbed his underwear and turned back, Patrick holding up the blanket for him.

David crawled in and laid on his back, not sure what Patrick was expecting for him to do. But Patrick confidently scooted over to his side, placing an arm around his waist and laying his head on his chest, right over his heart. _This feels dangerous_ , David thought, wrapping his arm around Patrick's shoulders and falling into a deep sleep

8===D

David awoke to an unfamiliar alarm. He was warm, something heavy on top of him generating a lot of heat. He was also nearly naked, which is _not_ how he sleeps with Alexis in the next bed.

But this bed was much more comfortable than the motel. And the weight on him was comforting, surrounding him protectively. He peeked one eye open to see Patrick sound asleep, enveloping David's body with his strong limbs.

He wanted to stay this way forever, but he knew Patrick wouldn't appreciate a six-hour nap as much as he does. Plus he had to pee.

David ran his hand up and down Patrick's bare back until he felt him stir. 

"Mmmm… hey," Patrick said, stretching and untangling himself.

"Hi," David replied, turning to his side to give him a kiss.

"I like waking up next to you," Patrick mumbled in a sleepy, thick voice. "Maybe some time you come over, you can stay the night."

Oh. 

Accidentally passing out after sex and sneaking out before the sun came up was one thing. But intentionally going to sleep, and staying in the morning was something else entirely. And Patrick wanted that?

David wanted it too.

"Okay," he agreed softly, pressing another kiss into his lips. "Can we eat now?"

"Worked up quite the appetite, have you?" Patrick laughed, throwing off the blankets and climbing out of bed. 

David followed him, stopping in the bathroom and spending a few minutes trying to make his hair look like he _didn't_ just have the best fuck in years. When he came back to the kitchen, Patrick was at the counter cutting vegetables.

"I like this," David cooed, running fingers over Patrick's bare shoulders, down his back, cupping his ass. " _This_ is a view I could get used to."

"Are you talking about me, or my ass?" Patrick asked. 

"I'll let you figure that out." He reached forward and grabbed a strip of red bell pepper from the cutting board. 

"Why don't you finish slicing these while I make the dressing?" Patrick offered. 

David hummed in disapproval. "But you're so good at it," he whined.

"But David, _you're_ the artist here!" Patrick teased. 

"Is food art the same as real art?" He asked, taking the knife and grabbing a cucumber. Patrick chuckled and moved past him, closer than necessary for the space, with a hand on the small of David's back. He retrieved a blender from an upper cabinet, pressing a kiss on his temple. He took the ingredients from the fridge, but remained close, nudging elbows and brushing fingers and bumping hips.

"You know," Patrick said honestly, focusing on slicing an avacado, "I'm having more fun with you than I have with anyone else I've ever dated."

"Well I've been told I'm a good lay," David teased, unsure of how to otherwise respond.

"There is definitely that," he laughed. He placed the knife and turned to face David.

"I'm serious, though. Watching movies, going to the farmer's market, making you cook… I'm having a really good time."

David's heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach giving Gabby Douglas a run for her money. "Me too," he said softly, the only words he could get out. It was true, though. He'd never enjoyed just spending time with a partner outside of the bedroom. Probably because he's never had a partner who was actually a nice person. Not that David has ever been a nice person. He still wasn't sure what Patrick even saw in him. 

He cleared his throat. "Hey, um, there's this event after close at the store on Tuesday? It's, like, an LGBTQ+ social gathering of sorts. You could come, if you wanted."

"I'd like that," Patrick smiled. 

They turned back to their prep, Patrick blending the dressing while David combined the salad. They ate (and it was _amazing_ but David was _not_ about to admit that he was enjoying a salad so much), and talked and teased, then ate a few more cookies.

"As much as I want to keep you here," Patrick finally sighed, "I should probably let you go before your mother thinks you've been murdered."

"Her crocodile bag is tucked safely in her closet, so I doubt she'd notice for a while." 

He stood and made his way to the bed to retrieve his forgotten clothes while Patrick pulled on some (very flattering) gray sweatpants and a faded tee. They gathered David's goods from the market and carried them down to the car.

"Thank you for taking me on such a nice date, David," Patrick said as he drew him into his arms. 

"Mmm yes, I'm a very generous person," David replied into his neck. 

Patrick leaned back, kissing him deeply. "Tuesday?"

"Tuesday," he confirmed, climbing into the car.

A block down the road he glanced in the rearview. There, in the glow of the sunset, Patrick stood, watching him drive away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These naptime cuddles are brought to you by MMJ527!


	11. Chapter 11

Patrick arrived at Rose Erotica fifteen minutes before close. He was unexplainably nervous walking up to the door. Maybe it was because this was the first time he was buying something with a partner in mind. Buying something  _ from _ that partner. The thought made him blush, but not so much that he wouldn't do it. He was absolutely getting a bigger plug. 

He and David had been having some great sex. He was surprised at how easy it was to trust David to take it slow, but also how much Patrick didn't  _want_ to take it slow. Maybe it was because of how protected and secure he felt from the first day, or maybe because David never pushed for them to do more. But despite David's care, and maybe because of it, Patrick  _ wanted _ to do more. He wanted to learn everything, wanted to feel everything. He wanted David, all of him, but more importantly, he wanted to give himself to David. 

He'd never felt like this before. Obviously not with any of the women he'd been with, he'd never been so excited for sex, so drawn to it. But even with Ken, while it was all nice and good, it wasn't so exciting. With David, everything was electric.

When he stepped inside the store, he was surprised to see a small crowd wandering around the room. Stevie was standing behind the counter, scrolling on her phone. 

"Hey, Stevie," he said, and she looked up and nodded at him. "Is David around?"

"Yeah, he's helping set up," she said. Patrick nodded and turned away, deciding to look around instead of stand and stare at Stevie like a weirdo. He found his way to the plugs, picking some up to feel their weight, length.  _ Should I get some fun color? Definitely sticking with silicone. Does length matter as much as girth? _

"Looking for something?" 

He jumped at the voice and looked up at a very amused David. He leaned over and brushed a kiss on his cheek, next to the too-pleased smile. 

"I was just checking these out," Patrick teased. "Getting some ideas."

"Well  _ I _ was thinking," David started, reaching out to pluck a short, purple-colored plug from the shelf. He handed it to Patrick. "This one _seems_ significantly wider than your other one, but it's actually only slightly bigger than two fingers. So it's a logical next step."

"Well if it's the  _ logical _ step," Patrick laughed.

David leaned in closer, hand on his shoulder, speaking low in his ear. "I've been thinking all day about using this on you," he confessed. Patrick sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a tug at the base of his abdomen. Why were they in a building full of people and not alone in his bed? 

David stood up straight, obviously pleased with the reaction he elicited, and squeezed his shoulder. 

"I  think that's everything from the car," said a petite dark-skinned woman walking towards them. "Hi, I'm Jenna," she introduced herself. 

"Patrick." He reached forward to shake her hand.

"She runs the Planned Parenthood in West Elm," David explained. "She and her partner host all kinds of LGBTQ+ events all around the county."

"That's really great," Patrick told her, and meant it. It was incredible what an inclusive and supportive community he had found himself in.

"I'm gonna go help them finish getting ready." She excused herself and headed up the stairs. 

"So is this the one?" David asked, pointing at the plug still in Patrick's hand. His cheeks burned, realized he had a full conversation with someone while casually holding a sex toy.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled. David grinned and planted a kiss on his cheek, grabbing a box from below the table and strutting to the front. 

"You here for the thing tonight?" Patrick asked Stevie as she started ringing him up.

"Definitely not," she chuckled.

"Stevie is exclusively into men," David said.

"Only Ps for this V!" She scanned the box. "David is forcing me to slave away for him."

David glared at her. "I'm  _ literally _ paying you to close the store so I can attend the meeting."

"Is Jake gonna be here?" He wasn't sure why he even asked, if he was actually curious or just jealous.

Stevie snorted. "I don't think he identifies as anything but horny and aloof."

"His preferences are 'two feet and a heartbeat,'" David joked. She laughed, holding out the plastic bag to Patrick. Before he could grab it, David reached over to snatch it from her. "I'm just gonna put it in the back so he doesn't have to carry a bag around all night," David told Stevie, who was sporting an incredulous look.

They hung out at the register for a few minutes longer until Jenna came back down and invited everyone upstairs. David locked the door while Stevie pulled the drawer to count.

"I'll stay down here to wait for any stragglers," Jenna said. "You two head up, Evah's there."

David took Patrick's hand and led him up the narrow stairway. At the top of the stairs was a card table littered with pens and 'Hello My Name Is' stickers. 

"Welcome!" the person standing at the table said with a big smile. They were tall with long blonde hair, pulled back to show a severe undercut. "We ask everyone to wear a sticker, whether it's your first time with us or not. Just put your name and pronouns." They pointed to their sticker, 'Evah they/them.'  _ Jenna's partner _ , Patrick remembered. "It takes away any guesswork and misgendering, helps people feel comfortable." They smiled brightly. 

David stood from where he was bent over, filling out his own. He carefully stuck it to his T-shirt where his cardigan wouldn't cover it. 

"I don't  _ love _ having things stuck to my clothes, but I think a little sacrifice for a good cause is… manageable," he explained. Patrick smiled and grabbed a pen.

"Oh, Ronnie!" David grabbed Patrick's hand and pulled him over to where two women were standing, chatting and eating cheese from paper plates. "This is Ronnie. She's on the unit council. She helped me get this place off the ground." David smiled at her, and she gave him a fond nod. "She's also a carpenter and helped bring this room up to code. Ronnie, this is Patrick Brewer. He recently moved to Elmdale." Ronnie eyed Patrick up and down, lingering on their hands, fingers still entwined. 

"Nice to meet you," Patrick said, extending his free hand. She took it cautiously, giving it a firm but short shake.

"Mmhmm." She gave an unimpressed hum.  "You with him?" She asked David. 

"Uh, yeah," he smiled shyly, letting go of Patrick's hand to lay it over his shoulders, Patrick snaking his arm around David's back.

Ronnie looked back at Patrick. "He's out of your league," she told him before turning back to the other woman. 

"Don't worry about her," David whispered. "She takes a while to warm up."

"David!" Someone called from the top of the stairs. Two teenagers walked in, scribbling on stickers before coming over to them. 

The taller one flounced up, throwing thin arms around David, squealing. "Hi!" David patted  _ her(?) _ back. As they parted, Patrick took a peek at the stickers they were sporting.

"Hi, I'm Clara." She pointed to her name tag, stating 'she/her.' "And this is my boyfriend." The shorter person (Tate, he/him) waved. 

"I'm Patrick," he introduced himself.

"They're in Jocelyn Schitt's class," David explained. "I fumbled my way through a few safe sex talks for their health class."

"Don't be so modest!" Clara swatted his arm. "There were  _ no _ pregnancies in the graduating class this year!"

"Anyone with a fish bowl of condoms could have had a hand in  _ that _ ," David replied, waving away her praise.

"He also bought me my first binder," Tate told Patrick. 

"Well you were using ACE bandages, and chest and lung problems aren't a good look on  _ anyone _ ." 

"He helped me come out to my parents," Clara said, ignoring David's attempts at explaining away his generosity. Patrick was beaming, just soaking in the stories and knowledge of how much good David was doing in this community.

"Are we bragging about David now?" Evah asked, sneaking up beside them.

"Absolutely!" Clara said at the same time David cried "No!" 

"I want to hear about all of your accomplishments," Patrick said quietly.

"It's literally nothing," David waved. "I just did a few little things and that's all they talk about."

"It doesn't  _ sound _ like nothing," he insisted. "It sounds like you're pretty important to a lot of people." David shrugged.

"Is that Ray?" Patrick asked, motioning across the room to where a man with a mustache and giant grin was standing.

"Yeah," David said. "You know Ray?" 

"We've met a few times. I've done a little work for him."

"That makes a lot of sense," he muttered.

"I didn't know he was--"

"I don't know if he is!" David got closer, whispering excitedly. "He always browses the store, like  _ all _ sections, but never buys. I've  _ never _ seen him with a partner. And he literally comes to  _ every _ event we have here."

Patrick's face must have looked as confused as he felt, because David started laughing, probably louder than he meant to. Ray looked up at waved, rushing over to greet them. 

"David! Hello!" He said, too cheerily. "And Patrick! So good to see you! I didn't know you'd be here!"

"Likewise," Patrick chuckled awkwardly.

"Well you know me!" Ray grinned. "Always one for a good community affair!" He looked around the room. "Oh, Ronnie! I'll see you two later." He hurried off to see a very annoyed-looking Ronnie.

"So what do you normally do at these?" Patrick asked, glancing around the room. There was music playing from a small but strong speaker, placed on a table of soda cans and finger foods. At least two dozen people stood around, or sat on folding chairs, chatting and laughing.

"Mostly just socialize. Get to know people from neighboring towns." David pointed to a couple standing by the snack table. The two men were engaged in completely separate conversations with other people, but stayed connected with casual touches. It was intimate and sweet, the way they seemed to subconsciously reach out for the other, brushing elbows or touching hands, just to ensure the other was right there. "Zach and Michael met at one of these a few years ago," David explained. "Zach ran his dad's ranch in Elmridge, and Michael managed a car dealership outside of West Elm. Never would have met otherwise, and now they're happily married."

Patrick warmed at that idea. He'd never felt the need to be physically close to a partner before, even when he was engaged to be married. And while it makes sense why he never desired any girlfriends, he didn't really want to be close to Ken all the time, either. But things felt different with David. 

Okay, yes, it was still  _ very _ early in the relationship. They were  _ definitely _ still in the honeymoon phase, where everything is too good to be true. But so far, nothing about David was too good to be true-- just good. And Patrick couldn't get enough. 

"Funny how making one unexpected stop can change everything," he said fondly.

"You never know who's going to walk in the door," David replied, squeezing his hand and trying to tone down a smile.

Jenna turned down the volume on the speaker, calling attention to herself. "Hello! Seems like everyone is here, so why don't we get started? First, I'd like to thank David for hosting again. We really appreciate it." She led a short round of applause that David waved off.

"I don't like to drive," he said. "It's purely selfish."

Jenna laughed and continued, giving a few announcements about future meetings and events. Clara invited everyone to a surprise birthday party next month for another friend of hers and Tate's. Evah walked around and handed everyone a slip of paper with a topic, encouraging them to make conversation with someone new. Patrick's simply said "best vacation," while David's was a much more generic "happy memory." 

"Probably when my dad and grandpa took me ice fishing in Missinaibi for the first time," Patrick said in response to his own topic. "I was eight."

"Sounds cold," David grimaced. "Uh, once I went to Kyoto for spring break with James Van Der Beek? So I guess that was pretty fun." Patrick tucked that away to investigate more later.

"And how about a happy memory?" He asked.

"Um, when Alexis was fifteen we were locked in an interrogation room for 43 hours while the South African Police Service investigated a murder." He said it so casually. 

"That was a  _ happy _ memory?"

"I mean, at first it sucked, but she taught me how to play Texas Holdem." He shrugged. "Plus she was acquitted of all charges and they let us go in time for Charlize Theron's birthday party." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, what about you?"

"Well nothing to compete with  _ that _ ," Patrick laughed. "Uh, I guess when we got snowed in for two days when I was a kid. My dad built a fire in the fireplace and my mom let us have s'mores for dinner." David smiled sweetly at his story. 

"Store's done," Stevie announced, appearing out of nowhere.

"I'm just gonna walk her out and lock the door, okay?" He pressed a kiss into Patrick's temple and followed Stevie down the stairs. Patrick took the opportunity to move closer to a cluster of people.

"So how long have you been doing these things?" Patrick asked Evah.

"We've been hosting here for about a year. We were the first event that the store had, after Ronnie fixed it up." They raised their glass to Ronnie across the room, who nodded back. "We've known David longer, though."

"He came to PP a few months after his family moved here," Jenna added. "He spent 20 minutes standing in the waiting room, bitching about the lack of queer support in the area. Finally I came out of my office and told him that I'm queer, my partner is NB, and to shut the hell up." She laughed at the memory. "He sheepishly apologized a little later, and I invited him over for dinner."

"She makes the best maple bars," Evah interjected, wrapping an arm around Jenna . "I think that's what sealed it for him."

"So then you started up this group?" Patrick asked. 

"Oh hell no!" Evah laughed.

"No, we'd been meeting up for years!" Jenna said. "Ronnie and I go way back."

David returned, and they made their way around the room, making casual conversation based on their topic cards. Patrick even got to meet Tae, the vendor that made the flavored body paint he was very curious to try. 

Soon, Jenna was announcing the end of the evening, and everyone started to make their leave. Evah started packing up the snacks, and Patrick moved to help, putting the cheese cubes and finger sandwiches into reusable containers. David and Jenna moved the chairs and tables to the edge of the room. 

"I'll sweep tomorrow," David told her. "We don't have another event up here til next week, so there's no hurry."

Patrick and David walked the other two down stairs, saying goodbye at the door. 

"It was so nice to meet you," Evah said, shaking his hand. 

"We hope you keep coming!" Jenna added.

After they left, he followed David to the back room to retrieve his purchase.

"Thanks for coming tonight," David said quietly as he handed over the black bag.

"Of course," Patrick replied. "This was really great. You've really done a great thing here, David."

"It's all Jenna and Evah," he said.

"No, a lot of it is you." David rolled his eyes, so Patrick continued. "Especially how you've helped those teens."

"I'm just doing what anyone else would do," he shrugged.

"I don't think that's true."

David nodded. "I guess I do it because wish I had a positive queer role model growing up," David explained. "Maybe I wouldn't have done so much self-destruction." He sighed. "I guess that's what all of this is, trying to give people what I wish I had."

"I wish I'd had a queer role model in high school," Patrick admitted. "I might have figured out that I was gay before I was 30."

"But then you wouldn't have come into my store when you did," David replied softly, stepping closer. 

"And you might not have ever had this store," Patrick replied.

"And then where would we be?" David murmured, wrapping arms around Patrick's shoulders. 

Patrick loved this feeling, wrapped in David's arms, pressed tight against his chest. Nothing had ever felt more right. 

He leaned forward, pulling David tighter into an embrace. He let his hands tuck under David's sweater, feeling strong fingers move in his hair. Their lips pressed together, tongues lazily teasing each other's.  _ I will never get tired of kissing this man, _ Patrick thought as he stepped closer, crowding David against the wall. Their hips pressed together, and Patrick could feel David's erection against his thigh, knowing his is just as noticeable. 

David shucked his cardigan and ground his hips forward, making his arousal obvious and urgent. Patrick wasted no time in fingering at David's fly, deftly working the button and zipper of his skin-tight jeans. They both sighed simultaneously as David's erection was released, Patrick's hand groping over the smooth fabric of his briefs. David moved his hand to pull his own pants down to give Patrick more access, which he took willingly. He reached below the waistband and palmed David's hard and throbbing cock. 

"Fuck," he groaned, pressing his mouth hard against Patrick's. He thrusted forward, begging Patrick to grip him harder, which he did, stroking slowly but deliberately. David moaned, holding tight to Patrick's hips, rocking back and forth in his hand.

David mouthed against his neck, panting to the rhythm of Patrick's fist. "You're so fucking good," he groaned, making a delicious whine as Patrick flicked his wrist. Patrick could do this everyday if it meant watching the way he pulled David apart. "I need--" David grunted, fumbling with Patrick's belt, pulling out his equally hard and leaking dick. He gripped both of their cocks in his strong hand, the sensation of them pressed together causing Patrick's breath to hitch. 

"Oh god, David," he moaned, head falling on David's shoulder as he watched David's deft hand hold both of their erections, stroking them together. Patrick put his hand around David's, working with him, the friction of them together between their fingers sending waves of pleasure through his body. "I'm,  _ fuck _ , David I'm gonna come." It was much sooner than he would have liked but David's hands were a masterpiece and he was about to fall apart. He used his free hand to pull up his shirt, getting it out of the way for his incoming orgasm. 

David shifted his grip and twisted his hand, and Patrick came hard, crying out and biting down on David's shoulder. The sight of their cocks pressed together, Patrick's cum coating their fists, is what pushed David over the edge. He bucked his hips, clawing at the back of Patrick's neck, breathing heavily. 

Patrick leaned in, ignoring the mess between then, pressing a tired but passionate kiss into his lips. "David," he sighed. David just nodded back at him, still catching his breath. 

After a close moment, David released them, moving to the bureau drawer to bring a few napkins back. Patrick cleaned himself up as best as he could, David doing the same, before coming together in another kiss, cautious of their still-messy hands. 

"Maybe we should  _ actually _ wash," David suggested with a satisfied smile. Patrick nodded and followed him across the dark store and to the small bathroom. They cleaned up at the sink between kisses, slowly making their way back to the office.

"I really should let you go," David murmured into his neck, kissing along his collar bone. 

"I really should let you let me go," Patrick replied with a chuckle. He really didn't want to go anywhere, and it seemed that David felt the same, a thought that gave him butterflies. 

"Text me when you get home?" 

Patrick pulled back and grinned. He knew how much that simple request meant to David, when he asked it of him. "Of course," he said with another kiss. 

His drive home went by much faster than usual, all of his thoughts on David. 

8===D

Saturday could not come soon enough. 

They texted daily. David called on his walk home every night. They'd even sent some adult photos on more than one occasion. But none of it compares to actually being in David's presence.

It's still early in their relationship, and he knows how David needs his space, but Patrick can't help but wish they could be together more often, for longer. 

But Saturday… 

Saturday David was coming over, and staying the night. He was going to have over 12 hours of David to himself, and the three days since seeing him at the store felt like months. 

Patrick hadn't been this excited for someone to stay over since Todd from the baseball team agreed to skip junior prom and hang out all night. But he really didn't need to unpack  _ that _ right now. 

His daily meetings dragged on, the paperwork seeming endless. Has it always been this boring? Or is he just itching for the excitement and fascination that surrounds David? That man could make assembling Ikea furniture appealing. Probably because he would have something to complain about every step of the way, but still. 

Seeing how much joy David got out of his store, and everything and everyone that came with it, made Patrick want to reevaluate some things in his life. Does he want to do freelance business consulting forever? Absolutely not. But then what  _ does _ he want to do? It was fun to work with the Yoders, talking about their plans and creating a business. Maybe one of David's associates would need help launching a start-up or something. 

His last meeting of the day on Friday was over by 4:30. Normally this would be a blessing, but all it did was give Patrick more free time to sit around anxiously. 

He stopped by the grocery store on the way home to grab a few ingredients for tomorrow's dinner. He'd gone back to the farmer's market Wednesday morning to get some more of the fresh vegetables he knew David had enjoyed (and maybe had to push back a few meetings and pretend he had to rescue a friend with a flat tire so Mrs. Hillman wouldn't be too mad, but it really wasn't a big deal or anything). And he picked up some cheese from Warner Farms. And a few more macarons from the cookie lady (who promised they would keep til Sunday).

After putting away groceries, Patrick found himself still buzzing with energy, so he headed out to the gym. It was technically leg day, but he couldn't stop himself from working arms and chest, before running 3 miles on the treadmill. By the time his warm-down was complete he was bone tired, with just enough energy to shower and fall into bed.

But alas, there he was again, wide awake at 7am. He thought about going for a hike, but after last night's Mr. Universe tryout he didn't want to overdo it. So instead he changed his sheets, did a load of laundry, mopped the already clean floor, wiped down the kitchen and scrubbed the bathroom.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and checked the time: 9:45. Dammit.

He threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and headed out for a walk. There was a small branch of the Elm County Public Library about a mile away, he could pick up a book or two to occupy his day. Thankfully it worked, and he found himself a quarter of the way through the new Robert Kiyosaki's newest finance book by the time his pre-set alarm went off. Time to get ready. 

He took a shower, longer than last night's, doing a deep-clean. He imagined David standing in here with him, bodies pressed together, tongues running over hot, wet skin. His growing erection called attention to itself, and he gripped it with his fist, bracing himself against the tiled wall. He pumped fast, imagining David's strong hand around his cock, David’s breathe on his neck, David’s tongue on his--

He came hard. Not as hard as when he was actually _with_ David, but harder than he used to when going solo. He rinsed his hand and toweled off, applying a little cologne that David had once mentioned liking. He threw on a nice pair of dark-wash jeans and a dark blue henley and started working on dinner. By the time he opened the oven to remove the foil from the dish, there was a knock at the door. 

Patrick walked over, running a hand through his hair one more time, and opened the door to let David in. He couldn't help but ogle him-- David was a fucking vision. He was wearing tight pants with a skirted fabric panel, that accentuated his legs but concealed enough to make him irresistible, with a soft-looking black and white sweater that made him want to bury his face in David's chest and not let go.

"Hi," Patrick sighed at last.

"Hi," David replied with a shy smile. He stepped inside and brought his hands up to Patrick's face, pulling him into a deep, sweet kiss. "Where should I put this?" He asked, and Patrick noticed the leather bag hanging from David's elbow.

"You can put it by the bed," Patrick offered, reluctantly letting go to shut the door. 

David hovered close by (but not close enough) while Patrick finished prepping the salad, sipping a glass of wine. When the main dish was ready, they sat together at the table, moving their chairs side-by-side. All through the meal they kept hands on each other, caressing thighs or grazing shoulders or teasing lips. They didn't even get to dessert before Patrick had climbed on David's lap, biting at his lip with a tongue grazing his teeth.

David groaned into Patrick's mouth, hands groping his ass, pulling him forward to rock over him. 

"Bed?" Patrick asked, pressing his denim-clad erection into David's stomach. David grunted in response, standing and all but carrying Patrick across the room. They tore off their own clothes before coming together in only briefs, embracing and falling together into the mattress. 

David pressed his hips into Patrick's, guiding their erections together. He bit down on Patrick's earlobe. "What do you want to do?" He breathed. 

"You," Patrick sighed. "This." He grabbed David's firm, perfect ass. "Anything. Everything."

David chuckled in his ear, somehow making amusement sexy. "We'll get there, baby," he said with a thrust. "But let's have some fun on the way."

"I've been working on it," he admits. "Been using the new plug." He'd worked up to it the night he brought it home, and has used it every night since. Even before the gym last night. The memory of the delicious ache he felt while using the weight machines sends a surge to his dick.

"Wanna show me?" David practically purrs into his neck where he is sure to be leaving a very unprofessional hickey.

Patrick scrambles to the side of his bed and opens the second drawer of his night stand. It's quickly becoming his favorite drawer, filling with more ways to explore himself, explore David. He brings back the new plug, the weight of it in his hand getting him excited. He hands the large bottle of lube (getting low again) to David.

"I want you to use it on me," he said. David nodded, eyes sober and lust-filled. He gingerly placed the bottle on the bed and pounced forward, grabbing Patrick by the back of the neck and pulling him into a filthy kiss. 

"You're gonna take this for me," he instructed, nipping at Patrick's lips. "And you're gonna look so fucking good doing it." 

Patrick whined, grinding his aching cock into David's hip. He reached down to cup David, but was pushed away.

"No, no," he taunted. "Me first." David lowered himself over Patrick, biting a line down his abdomen. When his mouth reached his underwear, he bit down on the waistband and dragged them down with his teeth. He looked wild and sexy and so unreal. 

David sucked a finger into his mouth, getting it nice and wet, before pressing it against his rim. Patrick moaned and bucked at the sensation. He had no idea how much pleasure he could get from anal play, but  _ especially _ when his partner knew exactly what to do. It's like David had a manual of precisely how to turn Patrick on.

David made quick, sloppy work of Patrick's cock, sucking him deep into his gorgeous mouth. The scratch of stubble across his balls was something he never thought he'd fantasize about, but now it was all he could imagine when picturing David's beautiful lips stretched over this throbbing dick. 

Grabbing the lube, David coated his finger and began teasing Patrick's hole, making small flicking movements, moving back and forth but never any deeper. 

"David," he whined. David listened, humming around his cock (oh God the  _ vibrations! _ ) and pressed in, forgoing the first knuckle and stopping at the second. He worked him open, second finger pressed against the rim, until he was ready for more. After he was stretched enough around two fingers, David removed himself from Patrick and sat up. 

"Are you ready?" 

"Fuck, David, yes!" Patrick was grasping out, trying to grab at David. 

"God, you're so thirsty," he mewed, leaning down to lick into his mouth. "So fucking sexy."

"Please," Patrick begged, and David nodded. He generously lubed the plug and Patrick's hole before lining it up. 

"Tell me to stop and I stop," he said softly but seriously. Patrick nodded, not caring about what might happen and just desperate for it  _ to  _ happen. 

David pressed it in. Slowly, like he did to himself, but firmly and in one fluid motion. The stretch as he enveloped the plug was hot and fierce and he never wanted it to stop. Once it was fully seated inside, David did a few practice tugs, and Patrick could have cum on the spot.

"Now what do you want?" David asked in his deep, sultry voice. He slowly moved his briefs down over his hips, letting his erection break free.

"I don't know," Patrick panted. He literally could not think of anything better at the moment. "I don't care. Whatever you want." 

David smiled, leaning in for a deep, hot kiss. "I was hoping you'd say that," he admitted. "Because I have an idea." He walked his fingers up Patrick's leg, from knee to hip. "You have the greatest thighs I've ever seen," he said, eyes flashing up with a look of wanting. "I want to fuck them." 

Patrick's cock twitched. It was something he'd never heard of until recently, when one of their late-night texting conversations turned to sexting. Amazing how you can go from not knowing something exists one minute to  _ craving _ it the next. 

"Yes," Patrick breathed. David gave him a knowing smirk and guided him to roll to his side. He lubed up himself and Patrick's legs and positioned himself behind him.

David pressed forward, his cock, hot and slick, moving along his crease, perineum, balls. Patrick let out a sigh as David began to move. Back and forth, between Patrick's clenched thigh, gliding smoothly against the sensitive skin. With every thrust, David bumped against the plug, pressing it into the spot that sent shockwaves through Patrick's entire body.

"Oh  _ fuck _ ," he cried, grabbing David's hand on his hip. His other hand came forward and started stroking himself. They moved in tandem, one fluid movement, bringing them both closer to the edge.

David moaned as he got close. "I wanna feel you cum," Patrick growled. "I want you to cum on me." David didn't respond, but his hips sped up, thrusting the plug harder. 

Patrick cried out as he came hard in his hand, shivering with sensitivity. David thrusted a few more times before spilling, hot and perfect between Patrick's thighs. 

Panting, David moved to roll away, but Patrick grasped his wrist. "Wait," he asked, not ready for them to part. 

"I'll give you two minutes," David said with a kiss on the shoulder, "but then we have to clean up before we are glued together."

"Okay, and now I'm good," Patrick laughed, lifting his leg to release David.

"I hope you have more sheets," he said as they walked to the bathroom. "Because I am not sleeping in a puddle of cum." Patrick just laughed, washing his hands and legs. 

Together they pulled on their underwear and stripped the bed and remade it with a fresh set. They moved to the kitchen, cleaning up what they'd left of dinner. 

Once the leftovers were stashed and the dishes were in the sink, Patrick reached into the fridge.

"I got you some desert," he said, bringing out a container.

"Heather's cheese?!" David cooed with delight. 

" _ And _ some macarons from the cookie lady." 

"Oh my god." David grabbed Patrick's face and kissed him hard. "You are amazing."

"If cheese and cookies get me that kind of response," Patrick teased, "I'm going to have to bake you a cake next time."

"Don't make promises you'd don't intend to keep!"

They made their way to the couch and curled up under a blanket. Patrick's laptop sat on the coffee table in front of them, and they snuggled and fed each other cheese (mostly Patrick feeding David) while they watched some Sandra Bullock film. 

Honestly, Patrick was busy watching David. The way his eyes lit up at the scenes he'd seen a dozen times before. How he mouthed along to his favorite lines. The sweet smile when Sandra finally got the guy. How could he watch anything  _ but _ David?

They started a second movie, but Patrick awoke to David closing the laptop. 

"If we're gonna sleep, I need to wash my face." He instructed. 

They crowded at the bathroom sink, both brushing and flossing their teeth before David moved on to a complicated looking series of facial lotions and serums. It was like watching Van Gogh paint.

After he was 'bed ready,' David put on the softest t-shirt Patrick had ever felt, and expensive-looking sleep pants. He looked ready for a night time runway. In comparison, in thin plaid pajama bottoms and a faded Rose Video tee ("Okay, how have you never told me about this?!"), Patrick felt almost too casual to sleep in his own bed.

But as soon as he saw David sliding between the sheets, plugging in his phone on the unused night stand, Patrick didn't care about anything but climbing in next to him. They cuddled close, Patrick's back against David's chest, and talked quietly about nothing. He'd never felt more 'right' than he did right now. 

Patrick felt David's breathing evening out, felt himself start to drift. "Goodnight, David," he whispered.

He couldn't be sure, but just as he fell asleep, he thought he heard "Goodnight, Patrick."

8===D

  
  


The first time Patrick woke up, he was warm and comfortable and completely enveloped in David. He sighed, absolutely content, and basked in the heat of David's chest pressed into his back.

He'd never been the little spoon before. With his former fiancé, and even the few times he'd spent the night with Ken, he was taller, so he logically was on the outside of any cuddle. He'd never minded, it made sense, and he'd always been a touchy-feely kind of guy. 

But the first time David had laid in his bed, curled against him watching Interflix, he was snuggled up with someone bigger than him. Patrick had never realized how much he wanted to be held, be comforted and cared for. And he had a feeling that it wouldn't be as nice with anyone other than David.

He knew by the lack of light in the room that it was early yet, and while he would be comfortable being awake now, David could use a few more hours of sleep. And nothing could drag him away from this embrace, so Patrick settled back in and closed his eyes, perfectly content.

Patrick woke up the second time to an empty bed, hearing David's voice from the other side of the room.

"I am going to be there," he hissed into his phone. "You absolutely did not have to call me at the crack of dawn."

Patrick glanced at the clock. It was 8:15.

"I told you yesterday that I would be there today," David continued. "No, don't put Mom on the phone!" Patrick chuckled. No wonder his voice was so shrill-- no one got David going more than his parents. He sat up to watch the one-sided conversation. "Yes, Mother, I know… I  _ know _ I'm not there right now, I'm meeting you at the Café… Because you don't  _ need _ the car on Sunday morning… you absolutely  _ don't _ have any social engagements this early…  _ No, _ I didn't sign it out, Dad, because I  _ bought _ it! …No, I'm not bringing a  _ guest _ to brunch… because you're all a bunch of vultures and I will not subject my  _ boyfriend _ to that!" A heat gripped his chest, his heart speeding up. Did David really just say that? "Okay, you know what, I'm hanging up. I'm hanging up!" He huffed and threw his phone on the couch, running his hands up his face. He stopped when he made eye contact with Patrick, who was sitting on the bed with crossed arms and a smug smirk. "Sorry," he muttered.

Patrick climbed out of bed and walked over, putting hands on David's hips. "Don't apologize," he said with a smile. "If my boyfriend has to talk to his family, then my boyfriend has to talk to his family." Just saying the word made his stomach flutter. He felt like a giddy teenager, but he didn't care. David was his boyfriend.

"I don't think I said that," David said through a squint. Patrick squinted back, sarcastically.

"Didn't you?" He teased.

"I'm having a  _ very _ stressful morning," David sighed, squeezing Patrick's shoulders. 

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Well you have a few hours before you have to leave," Patrick said, pulling David closer. "I can think of a few things we can do to help you relax."

"Is that so?" David asked into his lips. 

"Mmhmm." Patrick pressed closer, moving his mouth along David's jaw to his ear. "Would you like to join your boyfriend in the shower?" He whispered.

David nodded. "Yes, I would like that very much."

David gathered his shower products, three times as many as Patrick had. "3-in-1?" He scoffed. "Absolutely not." He allowed Patrick to use it as body wash ("I  _ will _ admit that the scent does have a certain allure,"), but insisted that David wash his hair. He lathered his own first, then worked his strong fingers on Patrick's scalp. 

"You can wash my hair, but I can't wash yours?" Patrick teased. 

"After you prove yourself to be an adequate shampooer, I may reconsider," David informed him. "Rinse." 

After they were both clean and conditioned (again, at David's insistence), they stayed in, enjoying the water running over each other's bodies. 

Patrick stood pressed against David's back under the hot stream. He had one arm around his waist, lazily stroking David's dick, while his other hand wandered his chest. He nuzzled into David's neck, kissing from shoulder to ear, pressing secret whispers into his skin. 

_ So beautiful. So fucking gorgeous. Boyfriend. So strong. Kind and sweet. Smart and clever. Generous. Best boyfriend. So happy. _

David turned, slowly, staying wrapped in Patrick's arms. He cupped his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, long and hard and full of emotion. He tucked into Patrick's shoulder.

"Will you fuck me?" He asked softly. 

Patrick put a hand on each side of his face and raised his head so they were eye level.

"Are you sure?" He asked gently, eyes boring into David. 

"Yes," he replied, bringing his hand up to run a thumb over Patrick's lips. "I want you to fuck me." His other hand reached forward to palm Patrick's firming erection.

His eyes grew with anticipation and hunger. He pulled David in to a bruising kiss. "I wanna fuck you," he breathed into David's mouth. "I'm gonna fuck you so good."

"C'mon," David instructed, spinning to turn off the water while Patrick stepped out, grabbing towels and throwing one at David. They did a cursory dry off, leaving their hair dripping and skin damp. They pulled and dragged each other out of the bathroom and to the bed, fingers gripping and lips brushing against each other's skin.

"Do you have condoms?" David asked, knowing he had some in his bag, just in case.

"Yeah," Patrick breathed. They kept moving, falling onto the bed, neither letting go of the other. 

"Fuck, David, I want you so bad," Patrick groaned into his throat, hands grabbing everywhere at his skin.

"You've got me," David groaned. He rolled over, pulling Patrick on top of him. "Touch me," he begged. 

Patrick pressed his hips down, jutting his hard cock against David's, before pulling back and reaching for his bedside drawer, withdrawing condom and lube. 

He reached down with a slick hand and began to stroke David, breathing heavily into his neck.

"Please," he whined, thrusting his hips upwards. "I need--"

Patrick knew what he needed. He quickly slid his hand down, finger teasing his hole. David let out a low moan and bucked down into his hand. He smiled, biting down on David's shoulder while pressing in to the first knuckle, licking over the bite with a flex of his finger.

"Yes," David groaned, fingers digging into Patrick's shoulders. He worked his finger a little more before moving forward, reaching deeper. With every movement, David encouraged him with wordless sounds of pleasure, begging for more with his body. Patrick obliged, pressing a second finger into him, feeling him shudder. He worked him open, thrusting firm but gentle, eliciting a delicious grunt with every movement. 

"More," David breathed. "I'm ready for more." Patrick slowly pulled out, coating his hand with more lube, before bringing three fingers to his rim. He watched David carefully, eyes shut and head thrown back, as pushed forward, his hole tight and hot around his finger. "Fuuuuck," David moaned. 

Patrick worked his hole harder, thrusting three fingers hard and deep, rocking them back and forth around his tight rim. 

"I need you," David pleaded. "I need you." Patrick nodded, breathless with lust. He withdrew his fingers carefully, David's whine at the loss caused Patrick's cock to throb. He hadn't realized how hard he was, watching and listening to David's pleasure. He fumbled with the condom wrapper, tearing it with his teeth, rolling it over his erection and covering himself with more lube. 

"Are you ready?" Patrick asked, both to David and to himself. His skin was electric with anticipation.

"Yes," David sighed. 

"Look at me, David." His voice was quiet and serious. "I want to see you." 

David opened his eyes, both hands on the back of Patrick's neck. Patrick lined himself up and leaned forward, lying chest-to-chest, and pressed in. 

David opened for him, tight and hot. He moaned as Patrick entered him, keeping their eyes locked on each other. Patrick had never felt anything like it, the sensations intense, and having David here to experience it with him was almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, David," he panted.

"Yes," he moaned back. "Fuck me."

Patrick didn't have to be told twice. He leaned in, pressing as far as he could, until his hips bumping into David's thighs. 

"God, my boyfriend is so fucking hot," he choked out into his neck. David moaned and scrambled to grab at his face, pulling him up for a filthy kiss. 

"Say it," he begged, licking into Patrick's mouth. "Say it again."

"My boyfriend," he repeated, voice low, rocking back and forth. "My boyfriend is so fucking  _ tight _ . Fuck, you feel so good."

"You feel so good in me," David moaned. 

Patrick moved faster, in and out, feeling David tightening around him. He grabbed David's hips and pulled him up while he leaned back, bringing David onto his lap while keeping them connected. David cried out at the change of sensation, and he rocked back and forth on top.

Patrick sat forward and licked the sheen of sweat in the hollow of David's throat. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, gripping tight on his ass. 

David reached between them to grab ahold of his own cock, flushed and leaking. He stroked himself to the rhythm of Patrick's thrusts. "You fuck me so good," he moaned. 

"Are you gonna cum?" Patrick asked, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. Not that this incredible view.

"I'm gonna cum so hard," he grunted.

"I want you to cum," Patrick told him. "I wanna feel you cum with me inside you."

It only took a few more strokes before David was climaxing, white hot ribbons coating his hand. His whole body tightened and shook, Patrick feeling him clench around him. That was all it took for him to come crashing over the edge, coming hard and strong, holding tight to David, who rocked him through his orgasm.

"Oh my god, David," he panted, as David slowly climbed off of his lap. He pulled off the condom and tied it, dropping it into the bin by the bed. He collapsed into his pillow, catching his breath and blinking away the stars still clouding his vision. 

He didn't even realize David had moved until he felt the warm cloth cleaning him up.  _ I'm supposed to do that, _ he thought. David stood to walk back to the bathroom but Patrick grabbed his wrist, tugging him back to the bed.

"Looks like my boyfriend enjoyed himself," David playfully whispered.

"Your boyfriend might be out of commission for the rest of the day." Patrick turned to face him. God, he was gorgeous. "How did I get so lucky?" David just chuckled and leaned over, giving him a soft kiss, before heading back to the bathroom to clean up their hasty mess.

When Patrick awoke for the third time, a fully dressed and completely put-together David was zipping up his bag. 

"Were you going to sneak out?" He asked, partially joking, but also a little worried. David's smile relaxed him.

"No, I was about to come say goodbye." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Patrick sat up to be closer, realizing he was still naked under a quilt.

"Did you cover me up?"

"Well I couldn't let my boyfriend freeze to death minutes after giving me the fuck of my life," David waved his arms around nonchalant, but Patrick saw the sparkle in his eye. He was sure he sported the same one. "There's a kettle on the stove if you want some tea." 

"Sorry to pass out on you like that," Patrick muttered, somewhat embarrassed.

"Are you kidding? I took it as a compliment!" 

"I was gonna make you breakfast," he pouted. 

David leaned in close. "You already filled me up," he said in a sultry voice, eyes dark with lust. He teased him with a kiss, a hand tight around the back of his neck. "I'll call you later," he whispered when they parted. 

Patrick stayed put while David grabbed his bag and headed to the door, giving him a wink before stepping into the hallway. He flopped back down against his pillow and looked at the clock: it was just after 10. He couldn't remember the last time he slept late, even on a weekend. Of course he couldn't remember the last time he had mind-blowing sex first thing in the morning, either. 

His body was still exhausted, but his mind and heart were wide awake with thoughts of David. He needed to finish cleaning from dinner, and wash last night's sheets, but all of that could wait.

Time for a hike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully none of you spontaneously combusted after this! 😉


	12. Chapter 12

David stocked the shelf with candles, and thought about Patrick.

Sunday morning he'd driven back to town and thought about Patrick. Sat in the booth while his family bickered, and thought about Patrick. He got high with Stevie and _talked_ about Patrick (much to her annoyance). He went to sleep and woke up, thinking about Patrick. 

He hadn't meant to use the term 'boyfriend.' Not yet anyway. It just sort of slipped out. He'd thought about it, used it in his head. But he was afraid. Afraid that using the word, putting a 'label' on it, would make Patrick run for the hills. It was only two weeks since they started dating, barely a month before that they'd met. Not to mention that they met while Patrick was being _dumped_ by his then-boyfriend. He didn't want to give off the impression that he was _preying_ on him or something. 

But Patrick didn't seem to think that way. He glowed, lit up from the inside, when he called David his boyfriend. He teased, in the heart-felt never-mean way that Patrick teased, and made him feel secure. 

Patrick always made him feel secure. From the first time they kissed, while he was helping David with permits and licenses. If he had given up on the paperwork after getting what he _really_ wanted, David wouldn't have been surprised. It wouldn't have been the first time someone acted charitable to get close to him. But Patrick didn't stop. He kept to his word and actually _helped_ David (with the occasional makeout in between). That's when he knew that Patrick was one he might be able to trust. 

The first time they fooled around, David had been extra careful to pause before every move, ensuring complete consent. It was all new to Patrick, and he didn't want to do to him what Ken had. What others had done to David. And Patrick reciprocated with all of the care in the world, asking David the same permissions and allowances. 

Patrick cleaned him up afterwards, spoke sweetly and held on, providing better aftercare than he'd ever consistently received before. Patrick asked him to text when he got home, to ensure his safe arrival. Patrick answered the phone when he called. Patrick talked to his _mother_ about him. Patrick wasn't like the rest. Patrick cared. 

Standing below the spray of the shower, held in his strong arms, David listened to everything Patrick whispered to him. Affirmations, compliments, feelings. And David started to believe that he could believe him. Started to think that Patrick was someone he would let himself trust.

So he took a leap. He opened himself up, let himself be vulnerable. He was terrified, scared that if he let Patrick in so close, that he could do more damage. But Patrick wouldn't. He _knew_ that. He just had to believe it. 

It was hot. Sexy. Invigorating. But it was also beautiful. Confirming. Patrick looked at him like he was a wonder, eyes wide, soaking in every moment. David felt _worshipped_. 

Afterwards, when Patrick was exhausted, falling asleep on the bed, it was David's turn to show how he felt. So he kissed Patrick's forehead, washed them both, covered up his sleeping boyfriend(!!!), and cleaned the wet floor and forgotten towels. He got ready for brunch, packed his bag, and filled the kettle and put it on the stove (set it on low, in case Patrick wanted to rest longer before the whistle woke him). Luckily Patrick woke up on his own, and they said goodbye much sooner than he would have liked.

All Sunday afternoon and night they texted, and again on Monday. He called during his walk home, and stayed on the phone an extra twenty minutes after getting to the motel. How could two people who talked all day still have so much to say? 

Now David stood in the store, late Tuesday morning, thinking about Patrick for the millionth time today.

"So when are you going to introduce Mom and Dad to your little Button Boyfriend?" Alexis asked, interrupting David's thoughts.

"Um, how about never?" He replied.

"Ugh!" She huffed from her usual spot on top of the counter. "You can't just _drop_ a bombshell like that and then _not_ bring him around!" Her voice sounded perturbed but her eyes were bored, fixed on her nail file.

"They literally _never_ cared about anyone I dated before," he grumbled as he brought the empty box to the store room, returning moments later with another. "I don't see why it's _any_ of their business now."

"Oh come off it, David," she sighed. "It's different now and you know it."

He couldn't argue, it was different now. His parents actually _cared_ about what was going on in their lives, _wanted_ to support them. Two years after being dumped in Schitt's Creek, and his family was almost unrecognizable. And he actually liked it. But he would never admit that to any of them (one 'I love you' was enough, thanks).

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" He snapped instead.

"Oh my _god,_ David! Chill out!" She inspected her cuticles. "I'm having lunch with Ted but his break's not for, like, forty-five minutes." David growled under his breath and turned back to his candle display. "So when's your next little datey?" She asked.

"If you _must_ know, he's bringing me lunch."

Alexis practically leapt off of the counter. "Omigod _yay,_ David!" She clapped, as if lunch was some sort of accomplishment. "We should _totally_ double!"

"Um, no." He turned to face his sister and her stupid grin. "I already put in an order with Twyla and Patrick is picking it up on his way over." Which would be any minute.

"This is a good look on you," she said smugly.

David looked down over his specifically chosen outfit: a black [Fendi](https://www.therealreal.com/products/men/clothing/sweaters/fendi-2017-faces-motif-pullover-8df0j?position=24) sweater with a gray face motif, black Amiri distressed skinny jeans, and his trusty Rick Owens high tops. Obviously it looked good on him.

"What are you talking about?" He asked.

"This," Alexis repeated, waving a limp wrist at him. "Being all _happy_ with your little boyfriend." She bounced a little on the last word, reaching her finger over to boop his nose.

David swatted her hand away and opened his mouth to tell her to stick something up somewhere, but before he could, the door opened and Patrick stepped in. 

"Hi, Button!" Alexis squealed.

"Uh, hey Alexis," Patrick replied with a confused look. He walked over to David who leaned down to kiss him. "Hey," he said quietly. 

"Hi," David smiled. 

"You two are giving me _acne_ with all this sugar," Alexis scoffed sarcastically. 

"Oh yeah," David peered closely at her. "I can see a pimple right--" he pointed at her forehead.

"Ew!" She screeched, slapping his hand away and using the other to cover her face. "Don't be such a _dick_ , David!" She growled and stormed to the counter to get her bag before heading towards the door. "Bye, Button," she said sweetly, then turned a glare to her brother. "Swallow a _razor,_ David!"

"Byeeeee!" He called with false sincerity.

After the door closed, David turned and put a hand on each side of Patrick's face. "Hi," he said again as he pulled him into a kiss.

"Hi," Patrick replied when they parted. He held up a paper bag. "Where do you want these?"

"Ooh, in the back." David nudged him along before turning to the door and locking it. Technically it was 6 minutes before he was supposed to close for lunch, but who was counting?

They sat together on the couch, David sitting sideways with his feet tucked under Patrick's thigh (shoes off, of course, because he wasn't a monster), take-out containers balanced on their knees.

"So where was your meeting today?" David asked. When Patrick had texted this morning and asked if he wanted to get lunch, David had assumed he had to drive through town. 

"Nowhere," Patrick replied, taking a bite of his club sandwich. He glanced up and noticed David's look of horror. "What?" He laughed. 

"You drove all the way to Schitt's Creek just to eat moderately edible food?"

"Can't a guy just want to have lunch with his boyfriend?" Patrick teased. David blushed. He wasn't used to people going out of their way to be with him. He once again had to remind himself that Patrick wasn't 'people.'

"Okay," David said at last, biting down a smile.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Patrick set his container on the table and shifted to face David.

"So how's business?" He asked. David burst out laughing.

"Sorry, sorry," he wheeled. "That sounds like boring small talk, but I know you're _actually_ curious." 

Patrick started laughing, too. "So sorry my conversation is so boring." He shoved David's legs playfully.

After catching his breath and wiping his eyes, David answered. "Business is good. Great, even." He sighed wistfully. "After we lost everything, I thought I'd never have anything to be proud of ever again. But I am pretty proud of this place."

"You should be," Patrick told him honestly. "It is hard work to start a business, even harder to keep one running. But you're looking at, what, eighteen months?" David nodded. "And you're in the black? That's impressive." 

"Thank you," David said softly. "It _is_ definitely hard work. I wish everything didn't fall on me all the time. Even when I ran the gallery, I didn't have to be there every day." David had told him all about his gallery over dinner a few weeks back, about losing it, then finding out he never really had it to begin with. Patrick had listened with empathy. "And I think I'd like to help people more. Like I actually _liked_ talking to Jocelyn's class? Or maybe do something with Jenna and Evah."

"Have you considered hiring someone part-time?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah," David sighed. "I don't think I can afford to right now. Like, I make enough to keep myself above the red, but if I were to add an employee I don't know if I'd stay in the black." He picked at his cold french fries. "Plus there aren't a ton of people I'd trust to be here when I'm not."

"That makes sense." Patrick sat quietly for a few minutes, idly rubbing his hands up and down David's leg. "Did you get the Delton grant?" He asked at last. 

"The...what?"

"The Delton grant," Patrick repeated. "It's a grant you can apply for when your business supports other local businesses." David just stared at him, so he continued. "Like how you sell Tae's body paint? Or the candles and oils and lotions made locally? You can get extra money for that. Did Ray not tell you?"

"You've met Ray," he huffed. "What makes you think he's more than barely capable?" 

"I'd be happy to apply for some grants for you, David." Patrick squeezed his ankle.

"That is very generous," David replied carefully. "But you've already done so much, and I can't imagine you can afford so much pro bono work."

"Well, how about this?" Patrick cleared his throat and looked up at David. "I apply for the grants, and when they come in, you can start paying me to help you with some of the business stuff."

"And if you don't get the money?" David asked. 

Patrick's face changed, confidence pouring out of him. "Oh, I'm gonna get the money."

David couldn't stand it anymore. He blindly dropped his food on the table and crawled down the couch to Patrick. He put a hand around his neck and pulled him into a fierce kiss.

"You're so fucking sexy when you get all _cocky_ ," David said as he kissed along Patrick's jaw. 

"Yeah?" Patrick asked. "I can show you cocky." In one swift move (don't ask David how he did it), Patrick had them flipped and was laying on top, all of his weight pressing down on David. He shifted his hips and ground his firming erection into David.

"Okay, as much as I love _this_ ," David bucked to accentuate the word, "I don't think fucking during store hours is good for business." 

Patrick moaned into his mouth. "But I _love_ it when you talk business to me."

David chucked, arms wrapped around Patrick's neck, and started talking between soft kisses. "Filing taxes… applying for licenses… shredding documents… sending faxes… gossiping at the water cooler."

Patrick started to giggle, shaking in David's arms, and in seconds they were both laughing and giggling, the thought of any back-room sex long past.

After they calmed down, and kissed some more, the alarm on David's phone went off.

"Time to open," he groaned. 

Patrick shifted off of him. "What's your week look like?" He asked.

"Um, I have to help Stevie clean at the motel tomorrow night," Patrick raised an eyebrow, but David waved it away. "Lost a bet, long story." It actually wasn't a long story, Stevie had just gotten tired of high David talking about Patrick all night and said that he'd have to help at the motel if he said Patrick's name one more time. He did. "Then Thursday I have a family thing. But I'm free Friday." 

"Want to go to the drive-in?" Patrick asked. "There's a few John Hughes movies playing. 

"Only if Sixteen Candles is one of them," David told him, both knowing he'd go anyway.

8===D

"Why can't you get Roland to do this again?" David asked, handing over a stack of sheets.

"Because he has evenings off since the baby," Stevie told him. "Besides, I _did_ tell him to do this this morning, but I wasn't listening to his excuse."

"I don't know how you put up with him," he muttered. He picked through the basket of miniature toiletries on the top of the cleaning cart, opening a lotion container to smell it. "I _really_ don't know how you put up with this garbage. It smells like pennies and burps." He inspected the label: _100% moist liquid?_

"Don't have a lot of other options." David knew she was talking about both Roland _and_ the trash lotion, but he had no solution for the former.

"You could use the stuff I get from Brenda? She makes shower supplies too." He's been wanting to move into providing more products like her's, but hasn't been able to figure out the semantics of it yet.

"The motel doesn't have the best reputation for paying vendors in a timely manner." She pulled the fitted sheet tight over a corner. "Why do you think all we stock is Gel Time Moist Liquid?"

"Preference?" David grimaced.

"Because no one will sign anything with us," Stevie corrected.

They were silent for a moment as they tucked the flat sheet in

"What about me?" David asked at last. 

"What about you?"

"What if you ordered your toiletries through me? And provided Brenda's stuff, or whatever, but it was under my brand?"

Stevie stopped and looked up at him. "You want the Rosebud Motel to stock things that say Rose _Erotica_? I don't think your dad would go for that."

"What if I had a brand _within_ my brand?" David chewed his lip. "That could be a thing, couldn't it?"

"I don't know," she scoffed. "Ask your business partner."

"He's not my business partner, he's my boyfriend." A small smile involuntarily bloomed on his lips. She laughed.

"A boyfriend who is working on getting grants so you can pay him to do business stuff."

"Fine, I'll text him!" He snapped, not wanting to admit she was right. "Are we almost done here? I'm hungry."

8===D

David paced around the back room during his lunch break. Last night, Stevie had suggested asking Patrick about creating a smaller brand under his umbrella brand, and he'd been ruminating on it ever since. He'd wanted to expand into the skin and body care market for awhile now, and this was a perfect opportunity. But he didn't want to keep asking so much of Patrick in a professional capacity. It was literally his job, he can't expect him to want to spend his off time giving out free business advice, even to his boyfriend. Though he _was_ working on grants that David would provide a means to pay him for his consultations. It wouldn't hurt to ask.

He sighed and pulled out his phone.

> **[David Rose]**
> 
> Closed for lunch. Are you free to call?

His phone started ringing minutes later.

"Hey, I thought you were having lunch with your mom?" Patrick asked when he answered.

"There's a meeting at Town Hall today," David explained. "That's why I'm being forced into spending the evening with them instead."

"Don't sound so excited," he teased.

"Well they're depriving me of calling you after close, so."

"It works out then," Patrick said, "because I have a late meeting tonight."

"So it's a good thing we're talking now," David smiled. 

"It's always good when we're talking."

They talked until it was time to open the store again. When David brought up the branding questions, Patrick actually seemed interested and started talking about different distribution options. David was glad he'd asked-- no one else had ever been so invested in his business, or cared about it, until Patrick.

Between customers, David doodled in his notebook, creating mockups of labels with different brand name options: Rose Health and Beauty. Rose Market. Rose Apothecary?

After close, he took his time to clean and count the till. Finally there was nothing left to do in the store, so he made his way across the street to the Café. 

"At last, our prodigal son returns unto his family!" His mother announced when he slid into the booth across from her.

"I was at _work_ ," David growled. "Besides, I don't see _Alexis_ anywhere."

"Ugh, David, I'm right _here_." His sister flounced down next to him. "I was powdering my nose."

"Well you missed a spot," he sneered, looking back at the menu. Alexis ripped her compact from her purse and inspected her reflection. 

"You're such an _ass_ , David!" She said, slapping his arm.

"Now kids," their dad interrupted. "You're not children anymore."

"Yes, no reason to behave like insubordinate _moppets_!" Moira added.

"Can we just order?" David asked.

"Yes," his mother agreed. "Twyla?"

Alexis looked up and immediately started bouncing in her seat. "Omigod, _Button_!" She squealed. David's head snapped up.

There was Patrick, standing at the door and talking with Twyla. 

" _Patrick_?!" He looked up at his name and his face broke into a smile. Alexis jumped up and pranced over, hooking her arm through his and practically dragging him to their booth.

"Hi," Patrick said nervously. 

David was dumbstruck. All he could get out was "Why are you here?" 

"My meeting was in Elm Glen, I figured I'd grab something while passing through." He obviously noticed the look on David's face. "You said you had a family thing, I guess I didn't expect you to be here."

"And who is this dapper young fellow?" Moira asked.

"Hi, Mrs. Rose," he said, putting out his strong hand. "I'm Patrick." He turned towards their dad. "Mr. Rose. Very nice to meet you."

"Oh, Patrick," Johnny exclaimed. "You're David's…" he trailed off, looking for the word.

"Boyfriend," Patrick supplied.

"Boyfriend," David repeated.

"David's boyfriend!" Johnny said happily. "Well it's a pleasure, Son! Call me Johnny!"

"Thank you, Johnny," Patrick said, beaming. 

"Well now you _have_ to eat with us!" Alexis declared, still gripping Patrick's arm.

"Certainly!" Moira agreed. "This will give us ample opportunity to acquaint ourselves with our eldest child's inamorato!" 

"Twy?" Alexis called. "We're moving to this table!" She released Patrick and sat in the chair behind her, their parents following. Finally, David stood and moved to his boyfriend.

"Hey," Patrick said quietly.

"Hi," David replied in a daze.

"Is… is this okay?" He asked, unsure of how to interpret David's reaction.

"Yes!" He said, snapping out of it. "God, yes. Yes. Hi." He leaned forward and kissed Patrick softly. "Sorry, I was just really surprised. And I was hoping to prepare you more before throwing you to the wolves." Patrick smiled, rubbing his hand up and down David's bicep. 

"It'll be fine," he assured him, giving him another kiss. "Let's sit down."

The meal went much smoother than David had anticipated. Patrick was a natural parent pleaser, asking Moira about her work on the town council and talking to Johnny about business at the motel. He kept a hand on David's knee throughout the whole meal, giving it a firm squeeze from time to time while he made jokes and asked questions and complimented. David kept his arm around the back of Patrick's chair, hand resting on his back, in complete awe. This had all of the potential of a plane crash, but somehow Patrick was piloting this thing like a fucking professional. 

After their meal was paid (Johnny had absolutely refused to let Patrick cover the whole tab, so he settled on just paying for David's dinner) they all left together, David's family parting to walk home while he lingered by the car with Patrick.

"I think that went well," Patrick said, pulling David into a kiss against him.

"Well my mother only called you by the wrong name three times," David laughed.

"Twice if you don't count 'Pat.'"

"Oh no, we're not doing 'Pat,'" David corrected. Patrick just smiled and kissed David again. 

"So we still on for tomorrow night?"

David pulled back in surprised. "After all of _that_ ," he waved his arm in the direction his family went, "you still want to… to keep doing this?"

"Keep _dating_ you?" Patrick asked through a smirk. "Yes, David I want to keep dating you." He pulled him into another kiss. "Pick you up at 7?"

David held him tight, not wanting to let Patrick see the delighted smile plastered on his face. He planted a kiss on Patrick's head.

"We're taking my car," David told him with a suggestive grin. "It's got a bench seat."

8===D

After closing the store, David hurried back to the motel to shower and change. He was putting the finishing touches on his hair when there was a knock on the door. He rushed to the door, thankful that Alexis was out with Ted.

"Hey," he breathed as he opened the door to find Patrick standing there looking hot in a dark blue thermal that was snug in all the right places.

"Hi," Patrick said as he stepped forward for a kiss.

"We should go," David told him after they parted. "Before--"

He was cut off by his father's voice coming from the door between their rooms. "David, did I hear someone at the door?"

"That," David finished, grabbing Patrick's hand and dragging him to the Lincoln. 

He didn't love to drive the car very far out of town, not trusting Bob's repairs and tune-ups. However, he was willing to risk it for use of the full bench seat in the front. The bucket seats in Patrick's little Toyota made necking _very_ uncomfortable, and why go to a drive-in if not to make out? Well, obviously not during any Molly Ringwald films, but if Ferris Bueller was playing, all bets were off.

Patrick had already bought the tickets, so David insisted on getting snacks from the concession. They'd arrive early enough that they could finish their hot dogs and nachos before the previews started. As the opening song to The Breakfast Club ('Don't You [Forget About Me],' a classic) started playing through the car radio, Patrick had leaned up against David, whose arm was around his shoulders, to share a box of popcorn. 

"You know," Patrick said a few minutes into the film. "I think I had a crush on John Bender." 

David snorted and squeezed his shoulder. "Oh yeah?"

"I guess I have a thing for the tall, dark and handsome type."

"Well I'm sorry to say that I was never hot for Anthony Michael Hall," David told him, and Patrick sat up straight.

"Excuse me?!"

"What?" 

"I compared you to the heartthrob of the 80s, and you called me John Hughes' token nerd!" Patrick had a small smile betraying his offense. 

"Are you saying you _aren't_ very fair and a little nerdy?" David teased, scooting across the seat to wrap Patrick up in his arms.

"No," Patrick laughed, falling into his embrace. 

Judd Nelson made some snarky remark on the screen.

"You really go for the bad boys, huh?" David mused.

"You're a reputable business owner and a staple to your small town community," Patrick teased. "I don't think that really qualifies you for a bad boy."

"I resent that!" David shouted, and Patrick laughed, pulling him into a kiss.

They spent the rest of the movie cuddled up, kissing here and there (too many "Can't miss this part" scenes), but as John Bender threw his fist in the air, David grabbed Patrick's shoulders and pulled him in. He fell back against the driver's side door with Patrick's weight on top of him; his lips salty from the popcorn, tongue sweet with soda.

"If we keep this up," Patrick said between increasingly heavy kisses, "your car will fog up like in Titanic."

"If you think I'm above the Kate Winslet handprint move, you're sadly mistaken," David teased, nipping at his bottom lip.

Patrick shifted, moving himself to sit between David's legs a little more, and David slid to lay under him more. The two men stretched out on the bench seat, legs cramped by the passenger door, tangled around each other. It was a lot more comfortable than David would have thought, but he would have never imagined being wrapped up in Patrick, his weight holding him down like an anchor to reality. He pulled Patrick closer, deepening the kiss. 

David felt Patrick's hips move slightly, intentionally, pushing a growing erection into his thigh. He lifted his leg, giving a strong pressure against Patrick, who bucked forward. David let a hand run down Patrick's back to cup his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while rutting upwards.

" _David_ ," he moaned between them, hands scrambling to grip at David's hair, giving a firm tug. The sharpness sent electricity through his body, grinding his thigh harder against him while bringing one hand up and under the hem of Patrick's shirt. He brought it around to drag his nails over Patrick's chest, stopping to tweak a nipple.

Patrick cried out and thrusted down hard. David couldn't help but smile and pinch again, eliciting that delicious sound from Patrick's throat.

"David," he panted, "David I'm gonna cum in my pants."

David burst out laughing, and after a second Patrick's seriously panicked face broke into a grin. 

"Are we fifteen?" David finally asked when he could catch his breath. 

"You definitely make me feel like a teenager again," Patrick confessed, wiping his eyes. David leaned up and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. 

"Well as much as I don't _love_ your Wranglers," David said, moving his hand down to Patrick's zipper, easing it down, "I can't let you get them messy halfway through our date." 

He slid his hand past the waistband of Patrick's boxer briefs, cupping his still-firm erection. Patrick moaned as he started to stroke, and David led them into a seated position, kissing his neck while working him outside of his jeans. He felt Patrick getting close, breath hitching and muscles twitching. He moved his fist faster while his other hand wandered back under his shirt. He gave a nipple a hard pinch at the same time he squeezed his fist, and Patrick came with a choked cry. David worked him through his orgasm gently before reaching his clean hand to the back seat, retrieving wet wipes from his bag.

"Jesus, David," Patrick sighed. "How do you keep doing that to me?" David just laughed and pressed another kiss into his neck, tucking him back into his pants. 

"C'mere," he mumbled, wrapping an arm around Patrick's shoulders and pulling him close. He leaned against David's chest and relaxed, the two of them watching as Ferris fakes being sick. 

They cuddled while watching the second movie, kissing during any 'boring' parts (Principal Rooney was a great antagonist, but was it _really_ that important to watch his scenes?). When the ending credits rolled, they stayed, trading soft kisses and holding each other close, waiting for the traffic to clear a bit more. The whole drive home they held hands, Patrick's thumb rubbing over David's. They arrived at the motel sooner than either would have liked, and David parked next to Patrick's car. They stood between the two to say goodnight, neither making any move to actually part from the other.

"You know," Patrick said, arms around David's waist, chests together. "I really like you, David Rose."

David leaned in for a sweet kiss. "I like you too," he admitted.

"Mmm, but I said _really_ ," Patrick teased. "I _really_ like you."

"I know," he replied with fake vanity. He kissed Patrick's smile. "I _really_ like you, too," he whispered.

They stayed there, arms encircling each other, pressing kisses and confessions into their mouths, not wanting to let go. 

Until David saw a moth and pulled away abruptly.

"Text me when you get home!" He called, rushing to the door to his room, a hand covering his head to protect his hair from bugs.

"Goodnight, David!" Patrick laughed as the motel door slammed shut.

David opened it an inch.

"Goodnight, Patrick!"

8===D

On the drive to Patrick's Saturday night, David stopped at his favorite Chinese place to grab some takeout. Patrick had cooked the last two times he was there, and while David was not about to attempt _that_ mess, he wanted to provide dinner for once. He was still getting used to dating someone who wanted to pay for everything-- before they lost everything, David's black card was responsible for picking up the tab, ordering bottle service, paying drivers and providing drugs. He knew most, if not all, of his 'friends' stuck around for the incentives, and when the wealth disappeared, so did his popularity. 

He has always been proud. Anyone who has even so much as glanced at him could tell you that. Even when he had nothing, he had his pride. So taking handouts was never an option for him; he literally worked at the _Blouse Barn_ in order to keep from mooching off of anyone. After the store picked up momentum and he was able to be financially comfortable again (nowhere near the comfort of his past life, but better than he had been recently), he took pride in being able to take his parents out for dinner, or treat Stevie to lunch. 

Patrick was a gentleman. An old-fashioned guy who liked to pay for dates and pick you up at home and bring you flowers and open car doors for you. It was strange. David wasn't used to nice people, and Patrick was nothing if not nice. So it was an adjustment, a constant mental juggle to keep his unwillingness to be a charity from overtaking his desire to be courted. But Patrick always looked so sweet and proud when paying for dinner or showing up with movie tickets or presenting a home-cooked meal, so how could David not indulge a little and let himself be wooed? It was a balancing act, but one that was getting easier to do.

So David did what he does best when spending an evening with someone he likes-- showed up with beef lo mein in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

They'd decided that, since no one was cooking, they'd both just dress down for comfy cuddles on the couch. So when Patrick opened the door, David was floored to see how downright _sexy_ he looked in a pair of dark gray sweats and a baseball tee. 

He must have felt the same about David's drop-crotch joggers and long-sleeved shirt. "Hi," Patrick practically whispered as he looked David up and down. "How are you this beautiful in _pajamas_?" David blushed and pushed his way inside. 

Patrick had his laptop set up on his coffee table, the Great British Baking Show cued up and ready for binging. They sat on opposite sides of the couch, feet tucked under each other, eating their dinner from the cartons with chopsticks, trading bites of food. After the noodles were gone and their fortune cookies eaten ("You will have great success with friends... _in bed_ "), they cuddled together to watch Paul Hollywood brood over sponge cake. David had his head leaned against Patrick's chest, listening to his heartbeat, while Patrick's arm brushed up and down his shoulder.

When the show ended, Patrick took care of their food containers while David clicked to the next episode and sat back against the arm rest. Patrick returned to the couch and curled up on his side, head resting on David's lap.

"Ooh, hello," David chuckled, running his fingers through Patrick's short hair. 

"You just looked so comfy," he replied, nestling his head into David's thighs. They settled into a silence for a few minutes before Patrick started running his fingers along David's leg. "Your legs are so long," he said.

"Uh, thank you?"

"And so gorgeous," Patrick continued. "Your thighs are so strong." He turned his to press kiss into him. "So sexy. They make a great pillow."

"I'm glad," David said cautiously, not sure why Patrick was writing an ode to his legs.

"I could lay on them all day," Patrick told him. "But what I _really_ want to do is fuck them."

David coughed, choking on his wine. Patrick turned to face him with a cheeky grin.

"It felt so good when you fucked my thighs," he confessed. "I'd love to be on the giving end." 

"Then why are we still watching this?" David grinned, nudging Patrick to move so he could stand. Patrick sat upright, but when David tried to pull him up to stand he stayed planted on the couch, running his hands up and down David's thighs. He pulled down at the waistband revealing his warm olive skin, pressing kisses from knee to hip on one leg, then the other. His blunt nails raked the back of his thighs while David's hands skimmed over his shoulders.

"You're such a fucking tease," David muttered as Patrick's hot breath ghosted over his growing erection.

"Am I?" Patrick asked with fake innocence. He planted a kiss on David's hip, dragging his lips across his cock straining against his breifs. 

"Yes you are," David groaned, pushing him down onto the couch and falling on top of him with a hard kiss, licking into his mouth and biting his lower lip. Patrick moaned, rocking his hips forward to press his own aching dick into David's. 

David sits up slightly to pull off his sleep shirt, but before he could lay back down completely Patrick had an arm and leg around him and somehow spun them on the couch so he was on top and David was pressed beneath him. 

"That might be the _sexiest_ thing I've ever seen," David mused, biting at his neck as he remembered the afternoon in the back room.

Patrick shrugged. "Varsity wrestling," he said with a smug smile while pulling off his shirt. He pressed his chest against David, running a hand up to card through his hair while the other rutted between them, pulling against their waistbands to release their straining cocks.

They awkwardly kicked away their pants and boxer breifs, leaving them both naked and hard and grinding together, gasping into each other's mouths. After a few thrusts, Patrick shifted, reaching to the end table drawer and bringing back a small bottle of lube.

"You're prepared," David observed with amusement. _Like a fucking Boy Scout_ , he added in his head.

"I've stashed these all over the apartment since meeting you," Patrick admitted with a laugh. His preparation and confidence lit a fire inside David, who grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a filthy kiss.

Patrick pulled back after a moment, much to David's disappointment, and opened the lube, pouring a heafty amount into his hand, jerking himself a few times before grasping David, coating him with long strokes. He finally closed the space between them, pressing their erections together, sliding side-by-side as he began to move on top of David.

"God you feel so good," Patrick moaned into David's neck, biting and kissing and licking. David's hands reached around to grab Patrick's ass, squeezing and pulling him closer as he trusted up. 

They stayed intertwined, grinding together and licking into each other's mouths. After a few minutes Patrick shifted again, moving his hips to thrust his erection alongside David's thighs while keeping David's cock between them. He settled back over him, rolling his hips to feel his dick move back and forth between David's legs, pressing up against his perineum.

David let out a guttural groan. He'd never been fucked this way before, in a very missionary-type position, but the sensations made it anything but vanilla. Feeling the firm head of Patrick cock pressing up behind his balls, grazing his hole on the deeper thrusts, his own dick held between them, sliding against Patrick's abs with every movement. He was in ecstasy.

"Fuck, David," Patrick panted. "You look so good like this. Under me, blissed out, getting fucked so good. You love it, don't you?"

"I love it," David whimpered. "God I fucking love it." 

He was getting close. The friction of his slick cock against the coarse hairs below Patrick's navel was doing something delicious to him, and he didn't know how much longer he was going to last.

Patrick moved his arms around David, holding closer under his back while he picked up speed with hips, thrusting hard into his thighs. The change in pace pushed David over the edge, dragging his nails down Patrick's back and crying out as he came. 

Patrick slowed to work David through his orgasm, moving gently over him. When David could finally catch his breath, Patrick sat back and gripped his own cock, stroking fast and hard until his hot cum spurted out, landing on David's chest and mixing with his own. It might have been the hottest thing David had ever seen.

Patrick collapsed onto David, ignoring their combined mess, and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him until David reluctantly suggested they clean up. He waited while Patrick brought a washcloth, impressed (and little turned on, if he were being honest) by how seriously he took the importance of aftercare. 

"Why don't we take a shower," Patrick suggested in a seductive whisper, "to make sure we're completely clean?"

David raised an eyebrow and interest, Patrick grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bathroom. He turned on the water while David retrieved his toiletries bag, and they climbed in together. This shower was less sexy than than first one they took, since neither were able to rally _that_ quickly, but it was no less fun. They giggled and kissed and tickled, soaping each other up (with David's goat milk and sage bar soap), taking turns standing under the spray to rinse.

After drying off and putting their pajamas back on, they made their way to the bed, Patrick tucking under the duvet. David set the laptop up on Patrick's desk, restarting the episode having been distracted before the end of the Signature Challenge.

"I _have_ to know if Paul gives out any handshakes," he explained. 

"You've already seen every season!" Patrick teased.

David turned on autoplay and sank back into Patrick's arms. By the end of the episode, they were both fast asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

David was in trouble. 

For then first time on a Tuesday evening, the store was packed. He'd completely forgotten that Martina, the artist whose nude portraits he stocked, had a showing at the Elmdale Art House tonight. When she booked it weeks ago, she called David to tell him that she would talk up his store and the classes she taught there, sending all of her guests to Schitt's Creek. And here they were. 

He'd meant to ask Stevie to help him that night, but between the meeting he was planning with the Rosebud Motel (a.k.a. Stevie and his dad) and helping Patrick apply for grants, he'd forgotten to mention it. And now she was at Jake's for Whiskey Night. David knew that if he called her she would leave and come to his rescue, but he wasn't going to that. He was slammed while alone in the store, and it was his own fault, so he was just going to deal with it.

But fuck, was it hard.

He stood at the register, ringing up purchases while also trying to answer questions. He'd run to the back between customers to bring out more stock, stressing out because he didn't have a chance to appropriately fill and organize the displays before having to run back to the till. 

"Thank you for shopping at Rose Erotica today!" He said cheerily to a woman as he handed her her purchases. "Sir, those are  _ all _ hand-painted originals by Martina," he called to a man standing by the artwork, before turning to some people smelling the massage oils. "A local woman makes all of those personally, they're 100% organic and vegan." A woman set her candle and body paint selection on the counter. "Find everything okay?"

This was exhausting.

Suddenly there was a hand on the small of his back. 

"I'll finish up here," Patrick said quietly. "You work the floor."

David didn’t have a chance to process his surprise or confusion about Patrick showing up or taking over the register, because he was instantly bombarded with questions and requests. 

"Yes, those are  _ all  _ Martina's originals. No, chocolate is the only flavor of body paint we sell here. Yes, those candles are safe to use for wax dripping. Do you need a hand with those bottles? Let me check the back."

He passed by Patrick on his way to the back, charming the hell out of an older woman buying a feather tickler and warming oils. David squeezed his shoulder, mentally sending him a thousand thanks that he knows he'll have to verbalize later. When coming back out with the last coconut ginger candle, he planted a kiss on Patrick's cheek. He could feel Patrick smile, still chatting with the customer, as he moved past them to the couple waiting for his return.

"You two are absolutely adorable," the older woman said to Patrick.

"I definitely got lucky with this one," Patrick replied, meeting David's eye from across the store. That turned-down smile made David's stomach flutter.

The entire next hour until close, they were busy. Finally David walked the last customer out and locked the door behind them. When he turned around to lean his tired body against the door, Patrick was there, pulling him into his arms.

"How are you even here?" He muttered into a kiss.

"I saw a flyer for the art show at the coffee shop this afternoon, and the name looked familiar so I stopped by. I realized it was the artist you carry, and she was telling everyone to come to the store. I texted to see if you needed any help, and when you didn't respond for a half hour, I assumed you were busy and came to help." Patrick said it like it was the easiest thing, to drive 30 minutes and just work at someone's store simply because they needed help. Maybe it  _ was _ that easy.

David didn't have the words to respond, so he pulled Patrick closer for another kiss, long and deep and sweet. 

"Why don't you count the drawer and do the deposit while I clean the store?" Patrick asked when they parted.

"That might be the hottest thing you've ever said to me," David sighed. They worked quietly for a few minutes, Patrick pushing the dry mop around the floor while David counted down the till. After a bit, David cleared his throat. "I was thinking," he started, "if the grants come in--"

"When," Patrick corrected.

"Yes,  _ when _ the grants come in," he continued nervously, "would you maybe be interested in maybe working here part-time? Only if you wanted to, of course. It would just help me, with the business stuff, or if I have vendor pick-ups or anything like that. But only if you'd want to. I don't want you to say yes just because I'm asking because you've already done so much." He was spiraling.

"David." Patrick had put back the mop away and was making his way back. He stopped when he got to David, putting hands on David's hips. "I would really, truly love to work here with you." 

David relaxed, leaning forward to lay his forehead on Patrick's shoulder. "I would really like that," he confessed. 

Patrick chuckled. "We can sort it out Saturday when I come by for inventory." He turned his face to kiss David on the neck. "Should we restock so we can grab some dinner?" 

David nodded and returned the kiss.

They worked together to replenish the displays of candles and oils and lotions while they chatted about David's possible expansion with the motel.

"Oh, I found out about this government program from the Ministry of Education," Patrick told him as they straightened the last shelf. "You can get a pretty substantial tax break if you hire a college student."

"Are you a college student?" David asked warily.

"No," he laughed. "But with the other grants you can afford a full-time employee or two part-timers. So if you wanted to bring on someone else, I would suggest utilizing this program. You know, as your business guy."

David groaned, pulling Patrick close. "Why are you so sexy when you say such nerdy things?" He complained, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling Patrick into a kiss. 

He took a step, moving Patrick against the table and pressing close. David licked along his lower lip while moving his hand down to firmly palm his bulge. Patrick moaned, rocking forward into David's hand. He gave a small squeeze, feeling his dick firming, and moved up slightly to remove the belt and unbutton his jeans.

"David, we're in the middle of the store," Patrick gasped as David's fingers breached his boxers and grazed his throbbing cock. 

"I know," he replied, nipping at Patrick's lip once more before lowering himself down to his knees. He pulled down on Patrick's pants and underwear, releasing his hard erection, a bead of cum glistening in the dim lights. He was a fucking sight to behold.

David reached up, holding the base of his cock with one hand and licking along his balls, trailing up across the bottom of his shaft and flicking his tongue over the slit, tasting the saltiness. Patrick moaned and David tightened his finger and thumb, using his other hand to massage his balls as he teased the head with his lips, giving wet kisses up and down his length. He felt Patrick's hips rock forward, anxious for more. He smiled to himself, indulging his thirsty boyfriend by taking him entirely into his mouth until his lips meet his fingers at the base. David created a deep suction, pulling off slowly to the head before bobbing down hard again, feeling him against the back of his throat. 

"Fuck," Patrick grunted, putting his hands on the back of David's head.

David hummed with disapproval, knowing what the vibrations do to Patrick, and grabbed his wrists to move his hands back to the table. Patrick loves being in control, being the dominant one, and any time David doesn't allow it, it drives him crazy. He groaned harder, thrusting his hips forward despite keeping his hands planted in place. David pulled back, keeping the head in his mouth and flicking with his tongue while working his fist over the shaft. He felt Patrick's thighs start to twitch, his grunts and groans becoming more persistent. He worked his hand faster, stroking and sucking until Patrick's knee all but buckled, coming hard and hot into the back of his throat.

David stood, wiping his mouth and relishing the flavor on his tongue. Patrick, eyes glazed and still panting, pulled him in to a deep kiss, searching David's mouth for his own taste. God, he was so fucking hot.

"David," Patrick sighed against his lips. "Things you do to me."

_ If only you knew what you do to  _ me. "C'mon," David said instead. "I made a killing tonight. I'll buy you nachos."

8===D

David locked the door and pulled out his phone, pacing as he listened to the ring.

"You're going to do great," Patrick said as soon as he answered.

"They'll be here in ten minutes!"

"And you're going to do great," he repeated.

It was Thursday, and he was using his lunch break for a business meeting. A real, official, important business meeting. Like a real, important business person. Granted, it was with Stevie and his dad, but that only turned down the anxiety a little. Trying to convince his mother to have lunch with Alexis instead of him, however took lives off of his life. 

"Why can't you just do it?" David whined into the phone.

"Because it's  _ your _ plan," Patrick said, like he'd said last night, and the night before. "You came up with it all on your own."

"But you helped."

"I helped you create a proposal," he replied patiently. "But everything else? The idea, the plan, distribution methods and vender agreements? That's all you, David."

He sighed. "Okay." Patrick was right. And if he thought it was a good idea, then he had to trust that. Right? "They'll be here in a minute."

"Call me after?"

"Of course." David hung up the phone and paced some more until there was a knock on his door.

The meeting went great. His plan, to provide skin and hair products to the Rosebud motel under his newly curated sub-brand, Rose Apothecary, was met with almost instant approval. Stevie was thrilled at having a business agree to contract with them again, while Johnny was impressed with the data and projections Patrick had helped him compile. Thirty minutes after he let them in, David was walking them out again, this time with hugs instead of handshakes.

He called Patrick again, this time pacing with positive jitters.

"They accepted!" He shouted into the phone. "They actually accepted!"

"That's great, David!" Patrick's genuine excitement was palpable. "I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you."

"Well it was all thanks to you," he replied bashfully.

"Absolutely not," Patrick argued. "This is another David Rose success, I just threw together a graph and some numbers." There was a pause, David not knowing how to respond to his boyfriend's glowing praise. Luckily, that boyfriend always knew what to do or say. "I'm taking you out tonight to celebrate," he declared. "I'll pick at 7?"

"That sounds perfect," David said, not bothering to bite back his smile. 

8===D

David was putting finishing touches on his hair when someone knocked on the door.

" _ Da _ -vid!" Alexis called from the table. "Your  _ Button _ is here!" 

When David opened the door, there was a large bouquet of brightly colored flowers standing in front of him.

"What is  _ this _ ?!" He asked with surprise and apprehension. 

"Gladioli!" Patrick's voice came from behind the blooms.

"...What?"

Patrick laughed and shifted the bouquet. "The gladiolus symbolizes strength and integrity," he explained. "It was the closest I could find to mean 'I'm proud of you.'"

"Oh my god, David!" Alexis squealed. "That is so sweet!"

"They certainly are _extravagant_ ," he replied cautiously. 

Patrick laughed again. "Yeah, I Googled flower meanings, then called three different florists to see who had these. I didn't realize until I went to pick them up how large they are."

David delicately accepted the bouquet. They were bright and loud and totally off-brand for him. But they were also thoughtful and unnecessarily sweet and totally  _ on _ -brand for Patrick, who was beaming like a little boy. And maybe David secretly really actually liked them. And perhaps he was already deciding which ones to press between the pages of his notebook to keep forever.

"They're beautiful," he said softly, leaning in for a kiss. He set them gracefully on the bed. "I'll have to find a lead urn to support them, but thank you." 

Hand-in-hand, Patrick drove them out to Elm Glen, to the Italian restaurant from their first date.

"I thought it was a good place to celebrate your expansion," Patrick told him. "It already holds good memories." David brought their hands to his lips and kissed Patrick's knuckles.

When David ordered their wine (Patrick was getting  _ better _ at differentiating decent wines, but not great), Patrick asked for two glasses of champagne as well.

"Wow, actual champagne," David laughed. "We're going all out."

"I wanted to toast you properly," he explained. "No Zhampagne and no raisins."

"Thank  _ god _ ."

"To you," Patrick raised his glass. "And to your ongoing success at the store."

"And to us," David added, feeling bold. "And  _ our _ future successes. At the store and otherwise."

"I'll cheers to that." Patrick clinked his glass with David's and they both took a drink, eyes locked firmly on each other.

"I have a confession," Patrick admitted after a moment. 

David's stomach dropped. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I actually brought you here for a another reason, too." David's hands went cold.  _ First date and last date? _ He thought. Luckily Patrick continued before he could start panicking. "I brought you  _ here _ , because this is where we had out first date."

David furrowed his brow. "I know that."

"A first date," he continued, "that was a month ago." David shook his head, not understanding. He knew it had been a few weeks, but what did that have to do with anything? "David," Patrick said, reaching for his hand. "Happy one month anniversary."

David withdrew his hand in horror. "You fucking troll!" He hissed. "I thought you were about to  _ dump _ me!"

Patrick laughed quietly, eyes full of amusement and empathy. "I would never dump you on our first monthiversary."

"No, we're not doing  _ monthiversaries _ ," he snapped. "And just for that, I'm ordering dessert."

"I was going to let you anyway," Patrick teased with a loving smile.

_ I hate him _ , David thought, knowing it was absolutely not true.

Their entrees arrived and they ate, Patrick teasing David and David [mostly] pretending to be annoyed. When David ordered dessert, he slid over to Patrick's side of the booth and tucked himself under his arm. He let Patrick take a few bites of the cake, but soon he was feeding David bites from his fork, which was better. Patrick kissed the chocolate from his lips, and kept kissing after the chocolate was gone.

Patrick paid the bill, and David let him without a fight because of all the hardship he'd had to endure at dinner ( _ And he's taking me out to celebrate, I suppose _ ). They walked out to the car, and Patrick moved around to the passenger side to open the door for him.

"I am perfectly capable of opening the door for myself," David said prudishly as he climbed in.

"I know," Patrick smiled. "I just like to do things for you." He leaned down and kissed him before closing the door. 

They drove back to town chatting over soft music on the radio. David held Patrick's hand on his lap, letting go only when the turn signal was needed.

They pulled into the motel parking lot, and David was surprised when Patrick cut the engine and started to get out.

"You know Alexis is here," David said warily.

"I know," Patrick said with an upside-down smile. "I'm not inviting myself in." He climbed out of the car, and David followed.

"So you're just walking me to my door?"

"Is that okay?" Patrick asked. David smiled.

"That's very okay," he replied. They stepped up in front of the door. "Thank you for a wonderful night," he said softly.

"Thank you for a wonderful month," Patrick replied, running a thumb over David's cheekbone. They met for a kiss, the kind of sweet kiss you get when your boyfriend walks you to your door at the end of a date. The kind of kiss David has never had before. 

"Goodnight, Patrick," he whispered when they parted.

"Goodnight, David," he replied, brushing his thumb over David's cheek once more. They parted, and David went inside, peeking out the curtain to watch the tail lights disappear down the road.

8===D

"You are a genius," David declared, flopping onto the couch in the back room.

"I don't know about all  _ that _ ," Patrick chuckled from behind the computer.

"We just did inventory for the  _ whole _ store in, like, a quarter of the time!" David told him. "And I literally didn't have to do any math."

"All I did was install a simple program," he replied. "Speaking of, I take it you're going to want to buy the software?"

"Oh, yeah," David stood and crossed the room, pulling his wallet from his bag and handing over a credit card. "Remind me Monday to call the bank and get you a company card."

"Are you sure?" Patrick asked. "That's a big deal."

"Well you  _ are _ my business guy, right?" David smirked.

"Now that we filled out the paperwork and you've officially hired me, I guess I am."

David bent down and pressed a kiss into Patrick's lips. "Then that settles it." He could see allowing himself to trust this man some day. "Now finish that up so you can take me home and buy me pizza."


	14. Epilogue

Patrick stood in the middle of the store, chatting with a customer, talking with her about vibrators. Finally, after working here for three months, Patrick was feeling confident enough about the products to really be a salesman and not just a cashier. Even though he  _ was _ an excellent cashier.

He walked her to the register and rang up her purchases, thanking her for shopping "with us." It still gave him a warm feeling in his chest when he said "us" or "we" when referring to the store. 

"Clara will be here in ten minutes, David," Patrick warned after the woman left. After the initial grants came through, David decided to take Patrick’s advice to utilize the tax program and hire a part-time college student. Clara had graduated in June and was taking classes at Elmdale College, and was probably the  _ only _ student he trusted enough to run the store a few evenings a week. 

"Well this would go faster if you let me get ready at the motel!" David called from the small bathroom. 

"I told you you could, but we might be late to dinner." Patrick had made reservations at a winery in West Elm for their fourth anniversary. David didn't know, but there was a giant heart-shaped cookie waiting there for them. He would probably hate it, but when Alexis let it slip last week that this was David's longest relationship, he couldn't  _ not _ do something ridiculous and over-the-top.

"And you knew being late for dinner wasn't an option for me!"

Patrick laughed to himself and stepped into the back room to grab a box of lubricants to restock. The bell rang over the door.

"Be right out!" He called. He stepped out from behind the curtain. "Welcome to Rose Erotica! Is there-- oh."

Standing there, at the entrance, was Ken. Ken and another man.

"Patrick," Ken said with surprised confusion. 

"Hi, Ken," he replied cooley.

"I, uh, didn't expect to see you here." Ken glanced nervously at the man at his side.

"At the place where you dumped me and bailed?" Patrick crossed his arms. "Yeah, I can see how that would be weird."

"Hey, listen," Ken said, stepping closer to the counter. "I was really out of line."

"I'll say." He looked up at the other guy, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Patrick felt a little bad for him. "He brought me here to make me buy stuff I wasn't interested in, and then broke up with me when I stood up for myself," he explained. The man's eyes went wide and looked at Ken in disbelief.

"I shouldn't have done that," Ken backtracked. "That was a conversation that should have been in private."

"I guess I  _ should _ thank you, though. " Patrick put his hands on the counter and leaned in. "If you hadn't publically humiliated me, I would have never met David, gotten into business with this successful store, started a caring and respectful relationship,  and frankly, been happier than I probably ever have been."

"David?" Ken asked, confused.

"Present!" David floated out of the back like a vision, hair perfect, clothes impeccable, and handsome as hell. He strutted up to Patrick, wrapping an arm around his waist and planted a kiss into his temple. He turned smiling to the customers, but his face faltered when he saw who was standing in front of them. He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said with false sympathy. "This is a specifically curated safe space. I don't allow people who  _ shame _ their partner's choices or  _ pressure _ them into uncomfortable situations. It's not really on-brand, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave my store. Like now."

"Let's go, Pete," Ken muttered, turning towards the door.

"Yeah, I think you should just drop me off at home," the man snapped angrily. 

"Pete," Patrick called after them. "You're welcome back any time!" 

As they walked out the door, Pete held the door for Clara on her way in. 

"Well that was fun," David said quietly, kissing Patrick again.

Patrick leaned into his boyfriend, feeling the warmth of his solid body against him, basking in the safety and security he always felt when he was with him. 

"Let's go to dinner," he said, leading David out the door and into the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for your love and support and comments and kudos.
> 
> We absolutely LOVED writing this, and are so sorry for it to end. But like all good things, we say goodbye to this sexy little story.
> 
> Don't worry though, this isn't the end of the Rose Erotica universe 😉


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